The Power Marine Chronicles: Corruption
by The d20 Master
Summary: In the closing centuries of the 41st Millennium, the 26th Founding brings many new chapters into the galaxy and from one of these new chapters, three Astartes rise through the ranks to lead their chapter against a grand company of the Iron Warriors as it attacks their home. Can the Power Marines withstand the onslaught of the Iron Warriors?
1. Chapter 1

**Here it is, the first chapter of my new story. Enjoy!**

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_"Such is the woe cast upon the Domains of the God-Emperor of Mankind in these times that in their wisdom and beneficence, the High Lords of Terra have this day issued this decree: Let there be a Founding of the Adeptus Astartes, and let the foes of the Emperor know that this galaxy belongs to Him, now and forever."_

These words echoed briefly across the room holding the 349th Congress of the Imperium from the mouth of High Lord Tagus, Convener of the Congress. There was a mixed reaction to this; many were eager to see the creation of new Space Marine Chapters, others felt it a waste of Imperial resources, as there were already around a thousand Chapters located in the Galaxy, and though many were under strength, it was still enough to safeguard the Imperium, which was why that number of Chapters had remained relatively consistent over the last 10 millenia since the end of the Horus Heresy when the 9 remaining Loyalist Space Marine Legions were divided into Chapters, with each of the 23 subsequent Foundings since the Second replacing the numbers of Chapters that had been wiped out or reduced to cripplingly low numbers. However, most of the people at the Congress agreed that in the face of the many threats posed to the Imperium, such as the newly discovered Necrons, as well as the rapidly growing Tau Empire and the rampage of countless Ork Waaagh!'s, a new host of Space Marine Chapters was vital to the survival of Humanity.

And thus, the 26th Founding began, in the early months of 736 M41. After that, the plans for half a dozen new Space Marine Chapters were made, names including the Mentors and the Storm Giants and the White Panthers. The Adeptus Mechanicus undertook the massive task set before them, and across dozens of Forge Worlds, serfs and workers toiled away, constructing the Power Armour, weaponry, vehicles and other equipment needs of the new Chapters. Men of the Adeptus Mechanicus pored over lists of worlds marked for possible homes to a Chapter's Fortress Monestary, looking for the ideal worlds among the list, worlds with access to both a large quantity of recruits, as well as tough cultures and easily defendable locations to build Fortress Monestary.

One such location that was selected for being the home of a chapter was a system in the Eastern Fringe known as the Isphyda System. This syste was located near the border of the Tau Empire, and as such, was in constant danger of invasion if the Tau were to begin another expansion. The system itself was relatively well placed strategically. There was a noticable lack of Space Marine chapters in that area of space, with the nearest chapter being the Ultramarines, who's home in the Realm of Ultramar was over 3000 lightyears away. Thus, the six worlds of the Ishpyda systm were slected to be the recruiting grounds for one of the new space marine Chapters, with the Fortress Monestary to be built on Isphyda I.

A few days after the declaration of the 26th founding, the Adeptus Mechanicus set about examining gene seed stock from various first founding Chapters, and altering them slightly for uniqueness among Chapters. Afterwards, zygotes of the various donor chapters were placed inside the bodies of lobotomised human test subjects. After a time, the various zygotes developed into Progenoid glands, which were then extracted. The genetic material within the Progenoids were extracted and placed within two new human slaves. Over the course of the next 50 or so years, with constant culturing and extracting and implantation, the Adeptus Mechanicus had 1,000 sets of each chapter gene seed for each new Chapter. The gene seed was then transported to the various systems assigned to them, where the Fortress Monestary's that would contain the chapters and the gene seed were just receiving the final touch-ups on their construction.

With the gene seed ready, the first recruitment processes were enacted, and new, young recruits were gathered from the recruitment worlds. In the Isphyda System, the chapter was to be called the Power Marines chapter, with their armour being painted jet black, the trim being the colour reresenting their company. Diverging from the Codex Astartes slightly, each company was given a different name reflecting upon their assigned specialty, and the battle companies were each assigned to have an extra squad in it, the squad's type varying between the four companies. For example, the Second Company, named Prometheus Company, would specialise in Ork and Tyranid infestation, burning out the massed hordes of enemies with flamer and plasma, along with their spores, and as such, they were assigned to receive an extra Assault Marine squad armed with flamers and plasma pistol for the sergeant. However, at the moment, the Chapter had no Initiates and no leaders, and so, veterans of the Ultramarines Chapter, the progenitors of the Power Marines, were taken from their home chapter and assigned to lead the new Chapter while it got on its feet. Approximatel 100 Ultramarines, mostly sergeants, were assigned to lead the Power Marines in the first 100 years of their life, after which those still alive would return to the Ultramarines with honour.

Among the initital wave of recruits for the Power Marines, 1,000 managed to pass all three of the trials, though this was more due to the sheer number of recruits taken as opposed to actual worthiness to join the chapter. About half of these 1,000 died over the next few years, their bodies rejecting the gene seed implanted into them. After this, the remaining 500 Neophytes were trained in combat, having to memorise the Codex Astartes and being experts with sword, gun and tactics. They then over time advanced in the ranks of the Space Marines, most moving onto the rank of Devastator marine. While the Power Marines filled out their ranks and had no tactical squads, they avoided combat in any form, leaving any and all issue within the system's Imperial Guard regiments. It was then determined that every 10 years, the veterans of the 10th company would undertake a 50 day period in which they would travel around the Isphyda system, taking all potential recruits and making them partake in a series of three trials, the first and third of which were the same regardless of the origin of the recruit, though the second varid depending on what world the recruit came from. After 50 years, with the 26th founding having ended long ago, the chapter had taken on four more waves of recruits, with all of their companies having troops, and the Power Marines were almost ready to go to war properly, as their numbers reached almost 1,000, not including support staff, Librarians, Chaplains and Techmarines. As the veterans of the 10th company went around the Isphyda system on their 6th recruitment movement, travelling in succession to each world and making the recruits participate in the Challenge Trial. 100 standard years after the beginnin of the 26th Founding, the 10th company veterans arrived on Isphyda I, having determined those who passed the Challenge Trial on Isphyda I and II.

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**Isphyda III, Ganda Desert**

The beast was a large one. It was long in the leg, with soft, padded paws at the end of the four limbs, and a long, sleek tail. It's head was wedge shaped, with small, beady eyes and slits for nostrils above its large, flat-toothed mouth. The dark, rust coloured fur on this creature made it blend in well with the sands of the desert, though the unusual black pattern on its back, uncommon in its kind, ruined the camoflague somewhat.

As the creature pawed the ground, trying to find a patch of vegetation under the sand, it was ignorant to the sounds around it. It lowered its muzzle to the ground and sniffed. After detecting moisture, it arched its back in excitement, and a set of large, thick, sharp claws extended from its front paws. It began clawing dust off the top of the moisture, and after a few minutes, a small, moist root grew in the ground. The beast closed its teeth around the root and began chewing, attempting to gnaw the root out of the ground. After a few moments, it began tugging. Eventually, it ripped the root free, and gleefully began chewing on its prize. It relished the juices sliding down its throat, and then swallowed the whole root. As it began searching again, it heard a sound. A foreign sound. Immediately, the beast was on the alert, its musces tense. There was silence. Eventually, the beast decided it was insignificant, and continued searching for food, though some 6th sense told him danger was near. It continued foraging for more of the delicious, nourishing roots it had just eaten, before suddenly, it heard a new, loud noise.

"The sky warriors are here! The sky warriors are here! Orion, Yariel, Crau, come quick!" The sound was. The beast growled, and began bounding off.

Yariel cursed, and ran after the beast. After a moment, he tossed his spear after it, but missed. The 13 year old stomped his foot on the ground and turned around.

"Damn it, Nakta!" he swore. "I almost had that Forager!" Crau nodded and looked at Nakta, his sandy hair obscuring his blue eyes. Orion, Crau and Yariel had been out hunting. Each of the 13 year old boys had discovered the tracks of the Forager thirty minutes ago, and had been tracking it ever since. Each one was covered in rust coloured paint and wore loincloths only, and carried a wooden spear. Nakta, on the other hand, was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, and running through the plains.

"Nakta, did you run all the way from the village to come here and tell us some nonsense about warriors being here?" Orion asked. "The village is over an hour away!" He said. The dark-skinned, black-haired 12 year old nodded vigorously, his hazel eyes shining.

"Not just any warriors, Orion! The Sky Warriors! The ones that grandma-wise and all our parents told us about! The ones that fight evils in the name of the emp-rah!" Nakta said. Orion eyed him skeptically.

"The Sky Warriors came to our village? And why would they do that?" He asked.

"Orion, go easy on him. Grandma-wise always said that the Sky Warriors come every ten years to collect our best young warriors to recruit, and that it's been 10 years since they last came." Crau said, the tanned boy pointed out. Nakta nodded.

Yariel pouted. "Sky Warriors or not, I almost had that Forager. Pa would have been so proud of me..." He said. Nakta looked at him.

"Your pa doesn't matter! The Sky Warriors might recruit us! That's why I came!" Nakta said. Yariel, Orion and Crau all stared at Nakta for a moment.

"Recruit us? To become Sky Warriors?" Crau asked, a wicked gleam in his eye. "Really?" Nakta nodded.

"Yes! They asked if all of the male children were in the village, and I told them that you three were out hunting, so they sent me to get you." He said. Crau grinned.

"Then let's go!" He said.

"But the Sky Warriors might not even be at our village! For all we know, Nakta could be playing a practical joke on us." Orion said. Yariel glanced at him.

"Look at Nakta for a moment. Does he look like he's lying?" Yariel said. Orion studied the younger boy, then nodded, conceding the point.

"Alright, I suppose he might be telling the truth. We'd better get back to the village." Orion said.

With that, the four boys set off for their home, cleaning off the camoflague paint on the way. After an hour, they arrived in the collection of tents and huts that made up their village. At the end of the village was the mineshaft, where all of the adults worked. However, more important, along the road that cut the village in two, stood all of the boys in the village between the ages of 12 and 15. And, standing by the boys, were four incredibly tall men in armour, with knives strapped to their thighs, and massive rifles slung over their shoulders. Yariel gaped at them. The Sky Warriors had come to their village, and they would be recruiting them to join the Sky Warriors. The oldest of them looked at the four boys.

"Ah, the latecomers arrive. Good timing, we were just about to forget waiting for you and commence the Trials. Don't take as much time in future." He said, turning to the boys. They were all speechless. The Sky Warrior waited a few moments, then gave a soft smile. "Well, get in line. The Challenge Trial is about to begin." He said.


	2. Chapter 2

Of the four boys, Crau was the first to recover. He grinned at walked over to the line of boys standing together. Orion was the next. He walked over to his brother Jason, who stood in the middle of the line. Jason was the oldest of the boys there, being just under 15 years of age. He was well known throughout the village as the most phsyically fit, the bravest, and the greatest warrior, and so many believed he would definately become a Space Marine. Orion on the other hand, had a reputation for being a sneakier person than his older brother, and for not being as strong or brave, and so many tended to think poorly of the boy in comparion to his brother.

After Orion took his place next to his brother, Nakta recovered his wits and walked, bouncing on the balls of his feet, to Crau, barely containing his excitement. Finally, Yariel walked next to Nakta. With all of the village's teenager's between the ages of 12 and 15 gathered, the Sky Warrior adressed the crowd.

"As some of you might know, every ten years, my Brothers come here to select initiates for the chapter. Each potential recruit must take part in three trials. The Challenge Trial is the first trial you will be put through." The Sky Warrior said.

"The Challenge Trial is simple: I have no weapons or armour, you all do. You fight me one at a time and try to beat me. Those who pass get to be in the next trial." He continued. There was instantly a lot of conversation amongst the thirty or so boys there. They would have to fight a Sky Warrior? This sent a ripple of fear, tension and excitement all at once throughout those assembled. They were all eager to prove themselves. All but one.

Orion listened, and suddenly felt something foreign to his usually cynical nature: Fear. More than that which everybody else was feeling, and there was no eagerness mixed in. He was truly terrified to fight this gigantic, hulking man, weapons or no weapons. Orion himself had never been very skilled with weaponry. His brother, Jason, glanced at Orion and saw the younger boy's fear.

"You alright there, Orion?" Jason asked. Orion shook his head.

"Absolutely terrified." He replied. Jason grinned.

"Don't worry, buddy. Just do what I do, and you'll be fine. You are my brother, after all." He said. Orion smiled weakly.

"I'll try to bear that in mind." He said. Jason slapped him on the back.

"Sure. Just remember: Do exactly what I do." He said. Orion nodded. Then, the Sky Warrior called for silence.

"All of you will head to the smith of the village. He has your arms and armour. Once all of you are fully equipped, come back out here. I'll be waiting." The Sky Warrior said. There was a murmer of acknowledgement throughout the crowd, and then they began walking off. They moved as a crowd and entered the Smithy. There, the old man who was the smith of the village looked up from his work.

"Ah, I see you're all here. Your weapons and armour are on that rack over there. It's one size fits all, and you all get one of everything. After you have your equipment, see Gilly in the back to get your warpaint." The old man said. The boys crowded around the rack and grabbed equipment, some fighting over pieces that they liked better than others. Eventually, all thirty boys each had a short spear made out of wood, with a razor sharp iron broadhead at the tip, a small, round shield made of hardened wood, a pair of wooden grieves and bracers, and a long, rust coloured cloak. They then went into the back room one at a time, where Gilly, the attractive young daughter of the Smith who served as his assistant, waited. She smiled at each boy as they entered and liberally daubed red, white, black and green stripes of paint across their faces.

Finally, every boy was fully equipped and ready to fight. They left the Smithy and walked back into the main street. The Sky Warriors were still there, and the leader of them was stripped of his armour. His rifle, knife and armour were all lying in a pile several meters away from him. The Sky Warrior eyed the collection of teenagers skeptically. None of them really looked the type to become space marines, he thought. Still, he had to test all of the boys within the age group, and so he had no choice but to fight this bunch of misfits.

"Alright, who'll be fighting first?" The Sky Warrior said, interrupting his own thoughts. There was a brief pause, and then Jason stepped forward.

"I'll take you on." He said. There was some cheering, whistling and applause from the others gathered. The Sky Warrior raised an eyebrow.

"Very well. Prepare yourself." He said. Jason nodded, then took a defensive stance, his spear pointed at the Sky Warrior's gut, his left foot in front of his right, the shield covering his chest. There was a brief pause, and then another of the Sky Warrior's called for the fight to begin.

The fight, if it could even be called that, lasted under five seconds. The fight had barely called for to start when Jason lunged at the Sky Warrior, thrusting the spear at his opponent's gut. With lightning fast reflexes that nobody though such a bulky person could posess, the Sky Warrior sidestepped, grabbed hold of the spear, and ripped it from Jason's grasp. Jason desperately tried to bash his shield against the older foe, but the Sky Warrior batted it from his grasp. He then grabbed Jason with both hands, bowed his head and flipped the boy onto his shoulders. He grabbed Jason by the shoulders and waist, and pulled downwards. There was a sickening cracking noise, followed by screams of pain from Jason. The Sky Warrior then tossed Jason aside, the boy thudding against the dirt, moaning pitifully as his snapped spine was jarred further. The Sky Warrior frowned.

"I hope that the cheering and catcalling wasn't an indication that he was the greatest warrior in your village, because in that case, we won't be taking any recruits from this village." He said. "Next." There was a stunned silence as horror and terror set in amongst the boys gathered. The greatest of their number was lying, moaning, paralyzed, in the dust. It had all happened in under five seconds. After a few moments, the Sky Warrior scowled slightly.

"NEXT!" He roared. Galvanised into action, one of Jason's closer friends let loose a scream of rage mixed in with a battle cry and charged at the massive enemy. As the Sky Warrior prepared to intercept, the boy threw his shield. This move was unexpected, and the shield hit the Sky Warrior squarely in the nose. The nose shattered, and hot blood coursed from it, before scar tissue formed and stemmed the bleeding within moments. Then, the teenager was upon the Sky Warrior, stabbing madly at the man who had just crippled his friend. The Sky Warrior growled angrily, grabbed both wrists of the boy, and bent them back with incredibly strength. The enraged roars immediately gave way to agonised screams and gutteral grunts as he tried to stop appearing weak in front of his peers.

Despite this painful injury, the Sky Warrior was not finished with the boy. He grabbed his younger foe by the head, lifted him into the air, and then immediately slammed him down on the ground. He repeated this process multiple times, before tossing the broken body aside. One other boy quickly ran forward to check on the boy who had become ominously silent. There was a pause as he felt his peer's pulse, then he looked at the others.

"He's dead!" The boy cried, a tear sliding from his eye. The others looked on, their fear increasing. Suddenly, it had hit them: This was not one of the stories they had been raised on. There was no glorified competition between valiant warriors, the Sky Warriors had not come to sweep away the strongest teens in a romantiscised adventure across the galaxy to purge it of the Emperor's foes. This was real. They were all fighting for their lives.

The Sky Warrior pointed at the boy cradling the dead warrior. "You're next. Come at me." He said, his rage subsiding. The boy paused, then trembled as he backed away.

"No way. I'm not getting killed. I don't want to be a Sky Warrior." He said, his voice shaky. The Space Marine took a moment to consider this. Suddenly, he lashed out, sprinting at the boy. The boy squeeked in terror and desperately tried to run, but was too slow. The Sky Warrior reached him, then snatched his spear and shield from his hands. Less than a second later, the shield smashed down on his head, disorientating him, before his spear's shaft was smashed so hard into his knee that it shattered, splinters flying, several lodging themselves deep within the thigh and calf of the boy as his leg gave out. There was no cry of pain, the boy simply lost consciousness before he could register the agony. The Sky Warrior then turned to the remaining 27 boys.

"Anybody else feel like backing down?" He asked in a mock sweet tone. There were several shaken heads and mumbled "no's", and the Sky Warrior nodded.

"I didn't think so. Next!" He finished. Another boy approached, and so the pattern continued. The boys would attack the Space Marine one at a time, some charging the man and immediately being beaten, some killed. Others were wiser and circled the space marine, looking for an opening that would allow for victory. Several then darted at their larger opponent. Most were then repelled easily, broken and tossed aside, though some managed to draw blood before being hit by the inevitable counterattack. The pile of unconscious and dead teens grew around the battlezone. After about half of the boys had fought, Orion was singled out. He did not want to fight, but he had seen the price of cowardice during the Trials. He stepped forward in a defensive position, his spear poised overhead, his shield placed in front of him.

Orion analyzed his foe. Though terror and adrenaline were running through his body, he felt a strange... Calm. He realised that as terrified as he was, he could not fail. Any mistakes would result in serious injury or death. This was a situation that literally required complete calm and a level head. And with this knowledge, Orion found it strangely easy to remain serene in his emotions and actions. He circled around the Sky Warrior, who was waiting patiently for an attack. He found a great deal of surprise when none came. The boy was still examining him.

The Sky Warrior thought for a moment. By this time, every recruit before Orion had already struck. This one was different. He was taking a clear view of the battlefield, seeing what could be to his benefit. A good quality in an Astartes. Then, suddenly, the Space Marine tensed as he saw Orion dart forward. However, it was merely a feint, and the boy withdrew, noting that his far older, more experienced foe was wise to any actions he could take. Then, suddenly, moments later, the real attack came.

Orion charged without letting loose any battlecry. He ran forth, ready to stab. Then, as he reached stabbing range, the Space Marine prepared to bring down this boy and move on to the next. However, there was no predictable stab at his gut. The boy made a brief jab, then immediately pulling away before he could be blocked, and swiping the spear past the Space Marine's face. Such a high-aimed attack was completely unexpected; the Space Marine was twice the size of this boy, and so it was a hard target that would leave anybody open. However, with the shock of the sudden withdrawal, Orion had a window of opportunity that was just wide enough to fit an attack through. Though the Space Marine was able to dodge the attack mostly, it did graze his chin, causing blood to flow before scar tissue formed. And then Orion had darted back to his original position before a retaliatory strike could be launched. The Sky Warrior prepared for another attack, before the unexpected happened.

Orion stabbed his spear into the ground and tossed aside his shield.

"I think I've passed." He called calmly. The Space Marine cocked his head to the side.

"Nonsense. The fight isn't over." He replied. Orion smirked.

"I think it is. I've lasted longer than any other recruit, and I've surprised you and draw blood from a large wound than anybody else, and in a spot that could potentially be fatal had I stabbed upwards into your chin instead of swung at you." Orion stated. "And if the fight were to continue longer, you'd just pound me into the dirt. No sense wasting the resources of your men to fix somebody already decided to be passing. Always pick your battles wisely, my gigantic friend." The Space Marine considered for a second, then looked to one of his comrades.

"Brother Ivan, what do you think?" He called. Another Space Marine, a rowdy scout from the feral tribes of the frozen tundra of Isphyda VI, grinned.

"I think he's right, Sergeant Calro. He's proven himself, no sense wasting effort on fixing him up. Let the boy prove himself more later, I say." Ivan stated. Calro nodded.

"Very well. Recruit, you may take your place back in the line." He said. Orion smiled and did so. The other boys looked at him in awe. Crau slapped him on the back.

"Good job there, buddy. Good thing you didn't follow Jason's advice and do exactly what he did." He said, chuckling. Orion frowned.

"That's not funny. Jason's my brother, Crau." He replied. Yariel and Nakta looked to the two as the next recruit went to fight Calro.

"Crau, Orion watched his brother get his back broken half an hour ago. Don't crack jokes about it." Yariel said. Nakta nodded fervent agreement. Crau shrugged, grinning, as the combatant got his rear end handed to him and the next charged the Space Marine.

"Alright, fine. Can I-" He said, but was immediately cut off by Yariel.

"No, you cannot joke about any of the others who've been injured. Or else I'll injure you." Yariel said. Nakta laughed, before suddenly, Calro spoke.

"I don't know what you're laughing about, son. You're next." He called, slamming his fist into the side of the head of his opponent, hitting so hard that the boy's head snapped to the side, slapping against his right upper arm with a snap, before he crumpled to the ground, flying a few meters away from the force. Nakta's face fell. Orion, Yariel and Crau noticed this, and all immediately gave the boy encouragement, telling him to do what Orion had done.

Nakta approached the Space Marine nervously. When the fight was called to begin, he ignored the advice given and immediately rushed Calro. However, instead of striking at him, Nakta threw aside his weapon and shield and dived underneath the Space Marine's legs, grabbing his ankles with each hand and knocking the Sky Warrior from his feet. Nakta then ran, picked up his spear, and then ran back to the Space Marine, slamming the butt down against his chest repeatedly. The Space Marine then roared in anger, whirled around on his hands, his legs knocking Nakta over in a scything motion. He leapt to his feet, grabbed the boy by his feet, and tossed Nakta away. Nakta slammed through the window of a house, the glass shattering as the boy went through it. There was a thud, a cat hissing and a woman screaming, before Nakta was thrown back out the window by pale, slender hands, the boy hitting the dirt unconscious. Yariel, Orion and Crau watched in both horror and wonder.

"Well, he certainly got off to a flying start." Crau said, deadpanned. Yariel punched him in the arm.

"Never make that pun again. Or any pun." He said. Orion sniggered, then jogged over to Nakta to check if he was alright. The boy seemed to be relatively fine, though he had several cuts and bruises. Several bones had probably broken as well. As this happened, Yariel stepped forward, ready to fight. Calro cracked his neck from side to side, then cracked his knuckles.

"Well, it seems this village has some worthwile candidates for recruitment after all. I hope you'll do as well as that previous boy. He had some fire in him." Calro said, chuckling. He then took a defensive stance as Yariel considered his options.

As evidenced by the countless previous fights, a direct assault would not work. Yariel could try what Nakta had done, though he doubted that Calro would fall for it a second time. Then, a brilliant plan hit him.

Yariel let loose a gutteral yell and charged. As he was a few meters away, he then hit the ground, rolling to the side of his foe. Calro was momentarily confused, not remembering having hit the boy. Then, he realised that he _hadn't _hit the boy when he felt a sharp pain in his left foot: an iron warhead had just pierced his heel. Then, before he could recover, Yariel was on his feet and smashed his shield into the arm of Calro. Calro bellowed angrily, and then prepared to punch Yariel so hard his head would come off. However, he pulled the punch, allowing Yariel to punch him in the gut, because he realised that this boy had vast potential. It wasn't his job to murder the ones who might do well.

After Yariel hit Calro in the gut, he withdrew his fist, gasping in pain. Calro smiled sweetly, and then delivered a vicious strike into Yariel's gut with his knee. The boy fell to the ground, clutching his gut, gasping and coughing up blood. Calro pulled the spear from his foot and waited for his genetic implants to heal the relatively minor wound. Then, he called the next opponent.

Roughly 20 of the boys had now fought, and the remaining 10 trickled into the fight, until eventually, only Crau had not fought. Yariel had recovered from his injury by now and walked weakly back to the line's remnants, Nakta as well as some recruits from early on had all regained consciousness and now gathered to watch the remaining fights, nursing the injuries.

When Crau was the last recruit left, Calro looked at him in curiousity. This boy had not fought at all, and had been studying almost every fight in close detail. Calro felt in his gut that of all the boys, this one might actually beat him. He would soon find out if this was true or not.


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's the third chapter. It's a little short, but I couldn't really go any further without dividing up the next Trial too much. So the next chapter, like the last, will be extra long. :)**

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Crau stepped forward, in a relaxed pose, his spear tip was close to the ground, and his shield was not raised. Ivan called for the fight to begin, but Crau made no effort to fight. Instead, he waited for a moment, then spoke.

"Lovely day, isn't it? Not as hot as it could be, not a cloud in the sky. Ideal for a bit of relaxation." He called. Calro raised an eyebrow. What was this boy's angle?

"Yes, though Isphyda I has far better weather. If you don't have a problem with the feral orks. Now, the fight's started, come at me." He said. Crau nodded briefly.

"I don't think so. Not just yet." He said. Calro shrugged and waited. After several minutes, Crau still had not moved. Indeed, he seemed to still be admiring the weather; his gaze was fixed on the sky. Calro sighed, and began to walk forward. It looked like he would have to ignore the feeling and his gut and simply treat this boy like any coward. When he was within ten meters, Crau suddenly acted. He sprinted to the side, and threw his spear at Calro. The Space Marine caught it, and snapped it in half. Crau then simply ran a few meters away and picked up one of the many spears that was lying discarded on the ground. Calro nodded. The boy was making good use of his surroundings to help himself in the fight.

Crau then began kicking up dust. Calro raised an eyebrow at this. There was no way the boy could kick up enough to truly conceal himself. He was obviously planning something else. While Calro thought about this, Crau struck again. He sprinted at Calro, and then dived to the ground, driving his spear upwards in an attempt to impale Calro from below. Calro, distracted by the dust, barely managed to avoid this, and the spear in fact grazed his left thigh. He prepared to stomp on Crau's head, before the boy slammed his shield into Calro's ankle. A couple splinters broke off and lodged themselves inside his foot, allowing for Crau to stand up as Calro staggered and to dart away. While Calro regained his bearings, Crau ran around, picking up as many discarded shields as he could. By the time Calro was ready for another attack, Crau held half a dozen shields in his hands.

Crau smiled at Calro, and placed the shields on the ground beside him. He then walked around and collected the rest, before putting them all in the pile. Calro tilted his head to the side, curious.

"Gentlemen and Sky Warriors, I present to you: Shield shooting!" Crau said, and he then delivered a rapid kick to the top shield on the pile, sending it flying towards Calro. Calro was once again caught by surprise, and the shield hit him in the chest, though with little force. He grunted, then was hit by another shield, this one thrown. The second shield, with more force than the first, hit him squarely in the face, and for the second time that day, his nose was shattered. He growled angrily and caught the next shield, and the next after that. He threw them back at Crau with incredible force, though Crau dodged them both, grinning crazily. Calro picked up one of the shields on the ground next to him and threw it at Crau with less force than before, and so the boy merely rapidly picked up a shield from the pile and used it to deflect the thrown shield, making it bounce off and clatter to the ground, settling in the dirt. Crau then picked up another shield and wielded one in each hand, before using both of the held shields to hit the pile as hard as possible, sending them in the direction of Calro. Few of them even reached the Space Marine, though they served as a suitable distraction.

Crau sprinted up to Calro and slammed both shields together on either side of Calro's left shin, and everyone heard a snapping noise as Calro's leg gave out under him. Calro bellowed in pain, and then Crau smashed both shields onto his broken leg, causing even more damage. He then leaped back as Calro lashed out with his good leg, and then tossed both shields into the Space Marine's face. Calro breathed heavily, fury and pain all he felt. There was a stunned silence from everyone there. Then, Ivan broke the silence.

The space marine laughed raucously, and clapped furiously.

"Well done, boy! You beat Calro! Bet that doesn't feel so good, does it, Brother? Being beaten by a boy! Ha!" He said. He chuckled and wiped a tear from his eye.

"Shut up, Ivan!" Calro growled. "Just come and help me up, and put my leg back into place. I don't want the bone healing without being connected properly." He said. Ivan nodded.

"Alright, alright, I'm coming." He said. He walked over to Calro and grabbed hold of his broken leg. He paused, then pushed the broken bone into place, ensuring that the two pieces were connected and would heal in the next hour alright.

Crau smiled as he walked back to Nakta, Yariel and Orion. When he reached them, Yariel slapped him on the back, grinning madly, with Orion doing the same and Nakta bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet with a wide smile plastered across his face.

"Great job, Crau! You beat a Sky Warrior!" Yariel said. Crau grinned back at him.

"Yeah, I'm amazing, aren't I?" He said, chuckling. "Really though, I couldn't have done it without watching you guys first. Plus, the twenty-nine discarded shields helped." Orion, Yariel and Nakta laughed along with him, before they were silenced by Calro.

"Alright, the Challenge Trial is over." He called, his arm around Ivan's shoulders so he could stand. "Obviously, the boy who just fought passed. In addition, the following also passed..." He then began pointing at nine others of the group with his free hand. Of those nine, Yariel, Nakta and Orion were among the number. "You guys who passed, go see a doctor and get your injuries fixed.

"Those who failed, go gather the guys who died and the people who failed and are too injured to move, and do whatever. I have no further interest in you, so get out of my sight as soon as possible." He continued. There were several tear streaked faces after this, and the boys reluctantly moved to gather the dead into a pile, before they carried away those too injured to walk. When they were gone and some of the villagers had come and gathered the dead and taken them away, Calro addressed the ten boys who had passed.

"Good job, you ten. Before I let you go, I need to tell you this: My Brothers and I will be leaving. There are five other villages the four of us need to visit, and three more planets in the system that our Company needs to go to. The places we haven't been haven't competed in the Challenge trial, so we'll be gone for about a week. When we come back, you will participate in the Exposure Trial, so I suggest you prepare. In the Exposure Trial, there is no failure. Those who do not pass die. And my Chapter will have no further use for your corpses." Calro said. "Now, go and get patched up. My Brothers and I are leaving."

After the Space Marines had left, the boys went to the village doctor and been tended to. Of those who had passed, their injuries were fairly minor, with the worst being a few broken bones. The same could not be said for those who had failed the Trial. Jason, for example, had a broken spine. He would be paralyzed for life. Some of the failures also had lifelong injuries. The boy who had refused to fight required an amputation for his leg due to the splinters and the resulting infection, and he also had suffered brain damage.

The boys who had passed the trial, once they had been tended to, then returned to their homes. The first of the next few days would be spent with their families; the next would be spent preparing. The Exposure Trial was coming, and it would prove deadly for any not prepared.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey, guys. Sorry about the massive wait for this update. Got hit by a little something called writer's block. The chapter is a little short, but it's the best I can do right now without making it ridiculously long. Also bear in mind that I will not even try to stick to my weekly schedule that I used to follow for this story, I'll update when I can. So yeah, enjoy the new chapter, and be sure to leave a review.**

* * *

Yariel sat on a rock, gazing out into the desert just beyond his home village. The other day he had spoken to some of the village elders and asked about the Exposure trial. He hadn't been told much: Just that he would be put into the desert and expected to survive for some period of time. He tried to press for details, but he the elders simply didn't know anything else: Those who had failed the Trial died, and those that succeeded all either passed, died, or went insane in the third trial, going on to become space marines if it was the former. So he, like the other nine boys, would be going into the next trial relatively blind, later that very day.

As he sat, lost in his thoughts, he was suddenly snapped back into reality by Nakta calling his name. Yariel sighed and stood up, turning as the younger boy ran up to him.

"Yariel! Yariel, the Sky Warriors are back!" Nakta called. Several meters behind him, Orion and Crau walked, both looking bored. Yariel stood up.

"Good to know." He muttered. "Now we get to go out into the desert and die. How fun." The boy said. Crau raised an eyebrow, Nakta tilted his head to the side while Orion remained unmoved.

"Never saw you as a pessimist, Yariel. I thought that was Orion's job ." Crau said. Orion shot him an angry glance, and Crau chuckled.

"I spoke with the village elders. They told me about the trial. The Sky Warriors throw us into the desert and expect us to survive." Yariel said. Orion furrowed his brow.

"Surely not. Everybody knows that it's not possible to survive more than a few days away from an oasis. That's why no village is built more than a mile from one. They wouldn't last." Orion said.

"Well, considering the fact that everyone who's gone into the trial has died, they don't seem to care!" Yariel snapped. Crau stepped forward.

"Yariel, they wouldn't just throw us to our deaths. They're after recruits, not corpses." He said. Yariel scowled at him.

"Yeah, well, you know this planet. If you end up in the open desert, you are dead. No exceptions." Yariel said. "That's why we're forbidden from straying more than a mile from the village."

"Well, we'll just have to bend the rules a little." Crau said, grinning. "We can't die. I'm too awesome for that, and an awesome person needs his friends. So we won't die."

"Yeah! We'll be fine!" Nakta said. Orion smirked.

Optimismis it? Alright, let's all just follow Jason's example. I'm sure we'll be fine. Let's go, guys." Orion said. Yariel glanced at Orion. The fact that he was mentioning his now crippled brother was stunning: Any time anybody brought Jason up, Orion would immediately shut the conversation down. However, Yariel dispelled the thought.

"Alright, I'll come. Might as well give the trial a try." Yariel muttered. Crau walked over to him and slapped him on the shoulder affectionately.

"That's the spirit, buddy!" Crau said. With that, the four boys began walking for the village.

* * *

Calro stood in the center of the main street with his brothers, though this time, they had brought a vehicle with them; hovering a meter above the ground was a Land Speeder Storm. Five of the six boys assembled had not stopped staring in awe at the craft, though the sixth one had barely spared it a glance before lying down to take a nap.

"Those three boys who left to pick up the straggler are certainly taking their sweet time." Ivan commented.

"Teenage boys don't have legs as long as those of us genetically engineered super-soldiers." Calro replied coolly. Ivan paused, then grunted. He remained silent for a moment.

"This rock is too hot." Ivan complained. "I'm going to die of heatstroke waiting!"

Your home planet is a frigid ball of ice on the edge of the system. This planet is a giant desert. Shut up." Calro responded. Ivan scowled at him, just when Crau, Orion, Yariel and Nakta walked onto the street.

"Ah, about time!" Ivan said.

"Shut up, Ivan." Calro said, before addressing the ten boys.

"Good afternoon, aspirants." He spoke, loud enough for the sleeping boy to wake up. They all looked at him. "It has been a week since you all passed the Challenge Trial. Now, you will face the exposure trial. You, along with the three hundred other aspirants from across the planet, will be thrown into the desert. Your goal is simple: Survive. When thirty days and thirty nights have passed, the survivors will have passed. Those of you who die, well, we won't have any use for your corpses. The area of the desert you will be deposited in is quite well-known among your people. I am told you call it Skull Valley."

Immediately, a ripple of fear spread across those assembled. Skull Valley was a well known area. It was located three thousand miles South of the village, but every person on the planet knew: If you ended up in Skull Valley, then you had better pray to the God-Emperor for a quick death. In this valley, the heat was more intense than any other place on the planet, and the nights were said to be as cold as the tundras of Isphyda VI. The only shelter was a lone oasis high in the mountains around the valley, and nobody knew exactly where that oasis was. Meanwhile, if the heat didn't dry one out, and they survived the cold nights, then the wild animals would surely kill any unfortunate enough to end up in Skull Valley. Lions preyed on the unwary at night, desert cobras rested under any shade that could be found, able to kill with but a nibble. Dwelling under mounds of sand were the Sand Spiders, massive arachnids that existed solely to suck the fluids out of any unfortunate enough to awaken them. To enter Skull Valley was a death sentence. Any who actually survived the experience were well and truly worthy of being a space marine.

"Now then, with all that out of the way, kindly board the land speeder." Calro said, smiling a little at the fear evident in the ten boys standing before him. One by one, the ten boys began to walk over to the land speeder, grab a hold of the boarding rail and climb up. When all of them were aboard, Ivan and another scout marine entered the drivers compartment, while Calro and the other two marines followed the ten aspirants. Ivan gunned the ignition, and the craft moved out, zooming over the red, rocky ground and heading for open desert.

* * *

Soon after departing, the land speeder began to fly over the sands of the open desert rather than the rocks of the oasis. After about half an hour, a large craft, pitch black like the land speeder and the armour of the space marines, came into view.

"What's that ship?" Nakta queried. Calro glanced at the smallest of the ten boys.

"That is a thunderhawk gunship. Main aerial transport of the Adeptus Astartes. It contains seats for up to thirty space marines, though were it to be filled up completely, it could probably carry the entire population of your village and the nearest three. In addition to the transport capacity, it comes equipped stock with a turbo-laser, four twin-linked heavy bolters, two lascannons and six weapons pylons, which can be armed with either cluster bombs or Hellstrike missiles. This particular one has the missiles." Calro said.

"That's... An impressive arsenal." Orion commented.

"Indeed. Half a dozen of these beauties, and it's quite easy to show the xenos scum that they could not have picked a worse enemy than the human race." Calro responded. "Though it is relatively lightly armoured for its size and armament. Downsides of being a transport, supposedly." As he said this, the land speeder came to a halt as it came within thirty meters of the thunderhawk. Calro jumped out of the transport, and indicated for the aspirants to follow suit. Slowly, they trickled out with the other space marines, and when just Ivan was still aboard, he drove it up the ramp of the thunderhawk, disappearing from sight. Calro and the other scouts walked up the ramp, and, having nowhere else to go, the aspirants followed. When Crau, Yariel, Orion, Nakta and the other six entered, they saw fifty other boys of their age, as well as the land speeder parked at the far end of the room, with Ivan just getting out of it as they entered.

"Lot of people here." Yariel muttered.

"Yes. Aspirants, like you. These are all the aspirants within a two-thousand mile radius who passed the Challenge Trial. There are two more thunderhawks collecting the other hundred or so Aspirants." Calro said. "You were the last recruits we picked up, so we'll be heading for Skull Valley now."

As if on queue, the ramp closed, artificial lights turned on, and the thunderhawk began to lift into the air, causing several boys to stumble. Calro chuckled.

"Might want to grab onto something, Aspirants." He called to everyone as he and his fellow marines strapped into the harnesses on the thunderhawk, which not one of the sixty Aspirants were tall enough to reach.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey, guys, here's the new chapter! Sorry it's taken so long to write, and also, sorry that I've spent so much time on the recruitment process, but I promise that the next chapter will be the very last with them as teenagers, and we'll get to the good bits with the action and SPESS MEHREENS soon enough. Anyway, enjoy the newest chapter!**

* * *

Calro stood upright, strapped safely to the wall with his harness alongside his four brothers. All of them were watching the sixty aspirants aboard the thunderhawk staggering and stumbling, tripping and falling. The thunderhawk hit a bit of turbulence for a moment, and sent several of the aspirants flying. Calro chuckled.

"How many of them do you think haven't fallen over by now, Ivan?" He asked his brother. Ivan grinned.

"Oh, about two or three. They pass the second trial!" Ivan joked. The other space marines laughed. This continued for another half hour or so, before suddenly, the craft began to dip, sending all of the aspirants sliding towards the front wall. The space marines all laughed raucously.

"Look at the poor things! They can't even handle a flight on a thunderhawk! Imagine how they'll cope with staring down the barrel of a bolter!" Ivan bellowed. Calro smirked.

"The enemies of man had better watch out." He commented. "The next generation of space marines will be slipping and sliding the Imperium into victory." As he finished this, the thunderhawk landed, and the ramp slowly lowered. The aspirants were all eager to pile out of the ship and get back on solid ground, even if the rock beneath their feet was so dry and hot that it seemed to be sucking the moisture from their feet. Calro gave off a small chuckle as he removed the safety harness, and stepped off the thunderhawk. He gave the aspirants a minute to get their bearings and adjust from the dim glow of the thunderhawk to the bright, harsh glare of the desert sun. After they had gotten their bearings, and they had noticed the two other thunderhawks already landed and the hundred other teenage boys their age sitting and standing, waiting, Calro spoke.

"Aspirants, you are now in the place you call Skull Valley. Scattered across the valley are numerous supply drops with food and water, though none of the supply drops will last more than ten people more than a few days, so I suggest you all split up into groups. You all have one goal: Survive. After thirty days, whoever is still alive will have passed." Calro said to the group.

"What will you and the other Sky Warriors be doing?" An aspirant asked. Calro glanced at him.

"Me and my brothers? We'll be returning to the _Hopeless Redoubt_ in orbit so we can go to the other planets in the system to gather recruits. We haven't visited Isphyda IV or VI yet. We'll be back in thirty days to collect whoever isn't dead. Good luck." And with that, Calro turned and strode back onto the thunderhawk he had come from without saying another word. The ramp closed, and the three thunderhawks took off as one, leaving the bewildered aspirants on the rocky desert with the glare of the sun beating down on them. The Exposure Trial had begun.

* * *

Heat. That was the one thing that everybody felt. The harsh glare of the sun bore down on the hundred and fifty or so boys, with no cloud cover whatsoever to asborb that heat, with the sun sitting directly overhead. There was no escape from that heat.

As the boys all walked, their feet began to blister; the rocky, cracked ground beneath their feet was burning hot, and sharp stones on the ground cut up the feet of them all. It would have been absolute agony had their feet not already gone completely numb, the only way their bodies could cope with the pain.

Eventually, as they all walked, one person stumbled, and fell to the ground. His face smashed into the ground, and the boy sobbed in pain. Slowly, the massive group stopped and started to huddle around him and see what was wrong, why they had all stopped. He looked up at them all, and scowled.

"What are you assholes gawking at?!" He cried. "Is it funny, seeing somebody fall over?"

"It's not that." Orion said, pushing through the group. "We're checking to see if you're alright. At least, some of us are." He added, glaring at the other people. Though there were over a hundred others, and Orion was just one person, a ripple of fear seemed to spread throughout them, and most backed away. Only a dozen or so stayed still, most of whom were from the same village as Orion, including Yariel, Crau and Nakta. Orion offered his hand, and the other boy took it, rising to his feet.

"Any idea what caused you to fall, or was it just exhaustion?" Crau asked. If it was the latter, then this boy would obviously die; they had only been walking for a couple of hours, and the trial would last another month.

"There's too many people, all just crowding together! I was pushed out and fell, or something." The boy said. Orion nodded.

"Makes sense. I was going to say, we probably shouldn't all be traveling together. The Sky Warrior mentioned that the supply drops they had scattered around wouldn't be able to sustain such a big group. If we split up, then we should increase our overall chances of survival. More groups would be more likely to find supplies than one big group, and those supplies could actually sustain the people in the group." He said. Those that heard him understood his reasoning and spread the message onto those who were unable to hear him due to the distance and the inevitable whispering and talking that would take place in such a large group.

"How about we make the groups people from the same village?" Yariel suggested. "There are about ten people from each village, right? That should be a good size for the groups, and it keeps the people within groups of people they actually know and work well with." He added. Orion nodded.

"Good idea. Well, everybody from my village, follow me, I suppose." He replied. He started to walk away from the main group as it began to divide, whilst the people who had come from the same village as Orion followed him.

* * *

It had been three days since Orion, Yariel, Crau, Nakta and their peers had split off from the main group. Since then, two of their number had died of thirst, with the other eight finding a supply drop that contained mostly water less than an hour later. It was terribly ironic, but none of them made had cared at the time; the discovery of water meant they would survive a little longer, and survival was all they cared about.

They still had a large amount of water left, which they carried in twenty flasks which had also been in the supply drop, and in addition, the supply drop included enough food to last another week. The group had been incredibly lucky; they had found one of the larger of the supply drops, which would certainly last them long enough to find another, assuming nothing killed them in the meantime. Despite the deaths of two of their number, spirits were high, as their chances of survival was far higher than if they had remained with the main group.

Yariel looked at the other seven boys as he took a swig from his flask, relishing the relatively cool water coursing down his throat. As he screwed the lid back onto his flask, he sped up his pace a little so that he was walking alongside Orion.

"How much longer do we have until nightfall?" He asked Orion. Orion looked up at the sky, squinting as the sun came into view.

"Judging by where the sun is, I'd say we have another hour or two. Next time we see a decent place to set up camp, we're taking it, no matter how much longer there is until sunset." He replied. Yariel nodded. Orion's reasoning was easy enough to understand: If they kept walking even after they had found a decent place to camp, they wouldn't find another one until sunset, and they could not afford to not have a fire by sunset. If Skull Valley was dangerous by day, it was even worse by night. The majority of the predators in the valley were nocturnal, and a fire would keep them at bay, but if there was no fire, then there would be nothing to stop a desert lion from pouncing and tearing one of the boys to ribbons.

"Well, I'll keep an eye out." Yariel said. Orion nodded, and they continued walking in silence. After another twenty minutes of walking, a high-pitched voice from the back of the group spoke up.

"I see a place to camp!" Nakta said, rocking on his heels and pointing to the West. The group stopped, and looked to where he was pointing. In that direction, there was a hill, with lots of vegetation that could be burned, and a rocky outcrop tucked into the hill that could fit all of them as they slept. There was also a large, dead tree next to the outcrop that would provide them with plenty of firewood to survive the freezing night. Crau grinned, and ruffled the younger boy's hair.

"Good eye, mate!" Crau said. "C'mon, guys, let's go. I want to cook up some of that meat we found in the supply drop." He said, referring to some salted meat they had found with the water. They all began to head for the hill, eager to light a fire, eat and get some rest.

When they had reached the campsite, some of the boys were content to simply collapse on the ground and rest for a moment in the shade, some set about setting up a campsite, whilst Yariel and Crau climbed up to the tree, each clutching a small axe that they had found in the supply drop.

"You alright, buddy?" Crau asked as Yariel grabbed onto a low-hanging branch and hacked it off. This question was unexpected, and caught Yariel by surprise.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?" Yariel asked as he retrieved another piece of wood. Crau shrugged as he began to climb up the tree.

"Just curious. It's been a rough three days, and the other day, we both watched two people we've know since birth die of thirst. I'd like to know if my best friend is doing alright." Crau responded.

"Oh." Came the reply. "Well, now that you mention it, I'm kinda freaking the hell out. But I'm trying not to think of the bad stuff." Yariel said. Crau grunted, and hacked off a large branch. The branch crashed to the ground, and he smiled.

"I think that'll keep us warm for the night. Let's go start a fire." Crau said.

* * *

Yariel awoke with a start as an ear-splitting scream pierced the silence, only for the scream to cease all of a sudden. Yariel lifted his head as he reached for a weapon; the first thing his fingers closed over was a large, sharp stone. What he could see was the other boys all awake, looking around bewildered. Only there was a problem; one of them was missing.

The fire had died down to the point of being a handful of glowing coals that barely illuminated anything, and Aaron, the boy who had been keeping watch after relieving Yariel, was huddled by the fire, curled into a ball, breathing heavily. Crau cautiously stood up, retrieving one of the axes and clutching it tightly.

"What... The hell... _Happened?_" Crau demanded of Aaron, keeping his voice as quiet as possible whilst still being audible to the other boy.

"I... I dozed off, and when I woke, I saw..." Aaron began before he burst into tears.

"Damn it, Aaron, what the HELL did you see? Where the fuck is Devyn?" Crau bellowed, startling everyone and, immediately after, a roar split the air. The colour drained from Crau's face, and he took a deep breath.

"Oh. That." He said softly, as, in the edge of the light, a large silhouette came into view, with a pair of luminous eyes staring right at them.

"Oh, crap, oh crap, oh crap..." Yariel breathed as Orion tossed a piece of wood on the fire. After a few moments, the wood caught and the fire roared back to life, illuminating the shadowed form before them.

"A lion..." Aaron muttered. "I saw a lion dragging Devyn off." He said. Before them, a large lion stood, its forelegs tensed, hackles raised, fangs bared. Around its maw, fresh blood was splattered, and its teeth were smeared with the same stuff.

"Yeah, you don't say." Crau said as it pounced. Crau dived out of the way, the other boys scattered and Yariel scrambled to see if his friend was alright.

"Crau, are you OK?" Yariel breathed.

"I'm FINE, Yariel, get out of my way!" Crau said, moving past Yariel and staring down the lion as it glared at him. He gripped his hand-axe tightly, taking a step forward. The lion was about to pounce again, when for the second time that night, a scream filled the air. Yariel, Crau, the lion and all the other boys looked in the direction of the scream and saw Aaron scrambling to his feet and running, doing his best to escape. The lion snarled and began to pounce.

"NO!" Crau yelled, running after it, but he was too late. The lion leaped onto Aaron, swiping its claw across the unfortunate boys throat to silence him. Blood sprayed out of the wound, before the bleeding slowed down to a steady pulsing flow from the slashed throat. The lion prepared to take a bite out of its latest kill, but pain exploded from its flank as Crau sank his axe into it. The lion roared and turned around, leaping on Crau. It was about to rip him apart before another boy smashed into its side.

"Get away from him!" Yariel cried as he drove the stone he held into the lion's side. He withdrew the stone, then stabbed again, and again, and again. Yariel sobbed uncontrollably as he continued to mercilessly stab the lion, stone thrusting, withdrawing and thrusting again. Blood soaked his hands as the creature slumped lifeless to the side, yet still Yariel continued stabbing it as Crau crawled away. Only when Orion grabbed Yariel by the arm and pulled him away did he cease his brutal assault, dropping the stone on the ground and staring in horror at his bloody hands.

"Thanks." Crau said meekly, pulling himself unsteadily to his feet. Yariel glanced at him, his eyes wide.

"Don't mention it..." He mumbled, stepping back to the lion and wiping his hands on the dead creature's hide. Orion stepped forward.

"Yariel-" He began, only to be cut off.

"Orion, I'm not going to keep stabbing it!" Yariel snapped. "I'm cleaning my hands."

"Uh huh. Let's use some water instead, OK?" Orion responded. "The fur of the creature you just butchered probably doesn't make a good cleaning implement." He said, walking back to the area he had slept in and retrieving the waterskin that lay by it.

"Right..." Yariel said, following Orion. As Yariel washed his hands clean of the gore, Crau sat down.

"Somebody keep watch and keep the fire going like we did before." He said. "Wake me in two hours. And if whoever it is falls asleep like Aaron did, I will gut you with my hands, assuming a lion doesn't do it for me."

"Speaking of lions, we should probably move it away from the camp in case something else decides to be brave and go near the fire." Orion said. "Nakta, you up for helping me?" The smaller boy nodded, not making a sound.

"Do whatever, I'm sleeping." Crau said, lying down and immediately passing out.

"Me too." Yariel said, drying his hands on his thighs and lying down. Though he said he was sleeping, he lay awake for a while. Sleep did not claim him for many hours, and when it finally did, he was wracked with nightmares. All in all, it had not been a good night.

* * *

The following morning, the six remaining boys had broken camp and continued their journey, none speaking of the tragedy the night before. The only words were the occasional request for one of the waterskins to be passed around, or the rare request for a brief break. They continued traveling for another week without incident, finding a supply drop filled with more food and water a couple days after the lion attacked, but precious little else occurred over the course of the week.

In fact, it was not until a fortnight after the Exposure Trial had begun that anything else actually happened to the group. By this stage, they had run out of food, and the water itself was running low.

* * *

"I'm hungry." Nakta complained.

"Oh, by the Emperor, we KNOW!" Yariel snapped. "We heard you the last million times! We're all hungry, but until we find another supply drop, there is no food, so stop whining about how hungry you are!" He said. Nakta's eyes filled with tears as Yariel snapped at him, and the boy bowed his head.

"I'm sorry, Yariel, I was just... I'm sorry..." He muttered. Yariel was immediately filled with regret for snapping at his friend, and he took a few steps back, ceasing his walking when he was next to Nakta. The rest of the group slowly stopped walking to see why he had stopped.

"Don't be sorry, Nakta. I shouldn't have snapped." Yariel said. "It's just been a really crazy couple of weeks." He continued. "Sorry for yelling at you."

"It's OK, Yariel." Nakta said, smiling. "I promise not to complain anymore."

"Can we keep moving? Standing around talking isn't going to improve our chances of finding a supply drop. We're just likely we found shoes in the last one, so we aren't walking through the desert barefoot anymore. But I'm hoping to find another supply drop, so that we can actually _do _something about that hunger." Orion said. Yariel and Nakta looked at him.

"Yes, yes, let's go." Yariel said. Before the group began to move, however, Nakta's eyes lit up.

"Yariel, Orion, look! A bush! It's got fruit!" Nakta said, running forward. The other boys looked at him and saw him running for a bush bearing a large amount of fruit and nuts. However, Orion's sharp eyes picked up something Nakta's did not, and his eyes widened as he saw movement under the bush.

"Nakta, WAIT!" Orion said, running after him. The other boys saw it too, and began chasing Nakta, who had still not noticed what they had seen. He laughed hysterically, eager to eat the fruit.

"It's OK! I've heard about these bushes! The fruit's fine!" He said, skidding to a stop at the bush and reaching forward to grab the largest, juiciest looking fruit he could find. As he reached into the bush, there was a hissing noise, and Nakta felt a ripple of agony spreading throughout his body, starting at his hand. He immediately withdrew his hands, to see that in his right one, a pair of small holes had appeared, blood flowing from them. He tilted his head to the side, confused, and then his eyes widened in horror as he saw a cobra sliding out from under the bush, scrambling to get away from the large, noisy humans.

"Nakta, there's a snake!" Orion called, and then he stopped walking and looked on horrified as the younger boy hit the ground. Most of the boys also stopped, but Yariel kept moving sliding to a halt by the side of his young friend.

"Nakta, come on, speak to me..." Yariel said, tears welling up behind his eyes as he cradled the prone form of Nakta in his arms. The younger boy began shuddering violently, twitching as spasms came every second, the young boy foaming at the mouth. "Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck..." Yariel muttered. "Stay with me, mate, come on..."

"What the fuck? What the actual fuck?" Crau said, running his hands through his hair and tugging on some hairs as he stared at the events unfolding before him. Orion stood next to him, acting similarly, though Orion was utterly speechless. The other two boys stood silently, looking on in as much horror as the others, though they had not been friends with Nakta like Yariel, Orion and Crau had.

"Speak to me, Nakta, come on, speak to me!" Yariel whispered, but he knew it was too late. Nakta had stopped moving, and he was not breathing.

"This is bullshit!" Crau said, sinking to his knees. "This is fucking insane! No way is this happening!" He said, his voice rising in pitch.

"It is, and it's crazy." Orion said. "Those bastards sent us down here to die. It's only been a couple weeks and half of us are dead!" He said. Orion could not take his eyes off Yariel, who was sobbing as he cradled the body of Nakta in his arms.

"We need to keep moving." One of the other boys said. Crau rose to his feet and whipped around, glaring at him.

"Excuse me?" He asked. The other boy stared Crau in the eye.

"We need to keep moving. The fact that your friend died doesn't change that. We watched four other guys from our village died, and two of them just happened to be_ my_ friends. Sitting around moping about their deaths doesn't change shit. We can't mourn them if we're dead, and the only way to avoid joining them in death is to keep moving and find a fucking supply drop." The other boy said. Crau snarled at him and raised his fist.

"Stop, Crau!" Orion said. Crau looked at him.

"Orion, what are you-" Crau began.

"He has a point." Orion said, tears sliding down his cheeks. "We need to go. We can't afford to stay here, we can't afford to bury Nakta or anything. We need to keep moving if we want to live to mourn him." He said.

"Orion, I can't leave Nakta-" Crau said.

"Shut up, Crau!" Orion said. "We have to! Do you think he'd want us to stay with his corpse and end up the same way as him? No, he fucking well wouldn't!" Orion snapped. "We have to move, NOW! So get Yariel over there and get your whiny ass moving!" Crau opened his mouth to retaliate, fury coursing through his body, but he thought better of it, and shut up. Orion did have a point, after all. He walked over to Yariel, and pulled the other boy to his feet.

"You alright, man?" Crau asked. Yariel wiped away his tears and nodded.

"Yeah. Let's just... Let's just get out of here." He said.

"Yeah... Let's go." Crau said. The five boys set off, leaving behind the body of their friend.

* * *

**Well, here it is, the latest chapter.  
**

**For those of you who are curious about the sudden use of certain language that was not used in previous chapters (the repeated use of the word 'fuck' later in the chapter, for example), it's because I decided that I couldn't be bothered censoring this anymore. When people are in life-threatening situations, they swear. A lot. I chose not to come up with new, unique, futuristic spins on swears because I can't be bothered, so just assume that the characters are using the 41st millennium equivalents to swears. **

**And if you're one of the (probably) many people who don't give a shit about the addition of swearing, then just ignore that. Leave a review, and stay tuned for the next chapter.**


	6. Chapter 6

It had been thirty days since Calro and his men had departed from Isphyda III, leaving the Apirants with the task of surviving a month in the most inhospitable place in the system, known to the locals as Skull Valley. Of course, to the Power Marines chapter, it was not known by that name, it was instead known as Trial Ground Thirteen.

Now, a month after its beginning, the Exposure Trial was over. Calro was to collect the survivors and ferry them to the _Hopeless Redoubt _for the third and final trial.

* * *

"Brother Sergeant, we are fast approaching Trial Ground Thirteen. Where shall we begin our search for survivors?" The pilot voxed Calro.

"Start with the oasis in the mountains. If any of them made it that far, then they'll definitely still be alive. Once we've picked up anyone who got there, systematically sweep the surrounding area. With any luck, it should take us an hour to have done a fly-over of the whole valley. Make sure the scanners are set specifically for HUMAN lifeforms only. I do NOT want us to be landing to pick up the local fauna like we did on the eight moon of Isphyda V." Calro responded.

"Jeez, Calro, are you going to let me live that down?" The pilot responded. Calro grunted.

"I don't know. It's only been a week. I haven't decided yet." Calro chuckled. "Now shut up and fly this bird." There was no response, which Calro regarded with approval.

After five minutes, his vox once more crackled to life.

"Sergeant, we are hovering over the oasis. We're picking up... Three humans down there." The pilot said.

"Good. Lower the ramp. Ivan, care to do the honours?" Calro said. Ivan nodded, slipping out of his safety harness. As the ramp lowered, Ivan carefully stepped to the edge, looking down. As the dry desert wind whipped around him, he looked back at Calro.

"It's our aspirants, alright! Looks like that guy who beat you in the Challenge Trial is down there, too." Ivan called. "They seem to be waving at us and yelling something."

"Yeah, they're probably relieved that they aren't going to die." Calro responded. "Throw down the ladder."

* * *

Yariel, Crau and Orion stood around, waving their arms frantically at the thunderhawk as it hovered where it was. The ramp lowered and a figure appeared at the edge, there was a brief delay and then a rope ladder was thrown down, hanging in front of them as it shook from the momentum. When it had ceased moving, Yariel took a hold of it, closing his eyes and breathing a sigh of relief as he began to climb. It had been a difficult month. In brief intervals, his friends also began climbing up the ladder. As he climbed the not inconsiderable distance, Yariel briefly thought about the month. In the first two weeks alone, half of their group had died. Then, over the course of the next two weeks, one of their number had been picked off by a giant desert spider and another fell to his demise off a cliff as the group reached the mountains and headed where they hoped the oasis would be. The three survivors, Yariel, Crau and Orion, had been lucky, and found the oasis not long after, where they had spent the following three days resting as they waited for rescue. And now, here it was. The trial was over. They were safe.

"Hey, kid. Not bad, surviving a month. Your people have the worst of it, you know." Ivan said to Yariel as he climbed aboard the thunderhawk. Yariel cocked his head to the side.

"What?" He asked.

"The trials. The people from your planet have the hardest trial. All aspirants go through the same first and third trial, but the second one is different depending on where you're from. The people from this world get dumped in the desert with nothing and are expected to survive. Even the other group that gets the Exposure Trial, the ones from the moons of Isphyda V, have it easy, they're given supplies to last them a week and a hell of a lot more supply drops than what you get." Ivan said.

"Meaning?" Yariel wondered.

"Meaning your planet on a regular basis produces the toughest, hardest initiates the chapter can get. Those that can survive a month down there traditionally do a good job as a space marine, and most of you are tough enough to survive the gene-seed implantation." Ivan responded, as Crau climbed aboard.

"So you're saying that people from this world are basically the elites of the elites." Yariel said. Ivan nodded.

"More or less. Now sit down, your other friend is almost up here, and we have the rest of the valley to sweep for survivors." Ivan said. Yariel nodded, and Orion crawled aboard. Ivan pulled the ladder back up, and the ramp was raised. Ivan buckled up, and Yariel groaned, remembering the hard trip from the month before from his home village. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

After an hour of scouring the valley from the sky, a further twelve survivors were found. Many, many bodies were flown over, but none were noticed by the scanners, as they were calibrated for living humans. As the thunderhawk began its ascent from the valley, the Space Marines confident they had found everyone, Yariel looked around and found himself rather depressed. One hundred and fifty of them had begun the trial, only fifteen had survived it. Ten percent. It was a pitiful fraction. Not one of the other survivors, with the exception of Crau and Orion, did he know.

But, despite the massive loss of life, those that survived were hardened by their experiences, toughened. More resourceful than they were before. The weak had been weeded out, and the strong had survived. Which was the intended goal of the whole trial. And yet, there was another Trial still to come. One more trial, which would further thin their ranks. Yariel knew that death was probably not a necessity for those who failed the coming trial, but he would not find it unlikely. The past month had shown him the errors of thinking positively.

After ten more minutes, the thunderhawk landed, and the fifteen Aspirants as well as the five space marines aboard the thunderhawk exited, leaving the pilot to run some post-flight checks.

As Yariel stepped out of the thunderhawk, he looked around him, gauging the unfamiliar environment. It was foreign, hostile. A ceiling stretching high up, massive distance between walls, no colour whatsoever, just unpainted steel throughout the room. On the nearest side, an energy field lay, with nothing else in the way, nothing else preventing them from being sucked into the vacuum of space. Yariel took a moment to look out, and, in the inky blackness disturbed only by white dots scattered as far as the eye could see, too many to count, a large, red globe lay.

"Never seen your home from orbit, huh?" Ivan said to Yariel, staring at Isphyda III with him. Yariel shook his head.

"I was just the son of a miner. Everyone in my village was. The furthest I ever got from home was a couple of miles while out hunting." Yariel said, shivering. It was cold in this ship, and he, like all of the other Aspirants, were clad only in loincloths and shoes.

"You cold?" Ivan asked. Yariel nodded. "I never noticed the cold. Comes with living on a ball of ice, I suppose. Isphyda VI is a harsh, unforgiving world. Similar to yours, but in different ways. Dying of thirst is seldom a problem. Freezing to death, now that's a different matter. Even when clad in the thickest of furs, the cold was... Deadly. I do not miss those days." He said. "But enough of my rambling. Aspirants, follow me. We will get you some robes, and you can wait for the next trial while we go to the other worlds in the system and collect the remaining aspirants."

"How many other worlds have you been to so far?" Crau asked, walking up to Ivan and Yariel as the group began to move.

"The first ones we picked up were the recruits from Isphyda I. That's where we get most of our recruits, so we tend to make sure to get them early. You'll probably meet them soon. They'd probably be eager to share stories of how they each killed one of the feral orks on their home, if they ever talked. Or if killing feral Orks when armed with a flamer was ever considered an achievement." Ivan said. "We've also been to Isphyda II and Isphyda V. The most recent recruits we picked up were from Isphyda VI. Now we're headed for Isphyda IV." He finished.

"The Forge World, right?" Yariel asked. Ivan nodded.

"Where we get our techmarines and pilots, yeah." He said. "Now, focus less on talking and more on walking unless you want to freeze your desert-folk rears off before you get your robes." Ivan finished. Calro nodded approvingly.

"Well said, Ivan. Well said."

* * *

Over the course of the next three days, the Aspirants from Isphyda III adjusted to life on a Strike Cruiser, mingling with the Aspirants from the other four worlds. They found that the ones from Isphyda I were a lot more talkative than he implied, and they certainly seemed to think that slaying feral Orks was an achievement. Those from the other planets were very different, depending on their worlds. Those from the upper hives of the second world in the system were somewhat snobby, as were those from the feudal kingdoms of Isphyda VI, but those that lived in the ice world's wilderness and tundras rather than the safety of the castles were a lot more enthusiastic about befriending the desert-worlders. Those from the moons of Isphyda V also got along well with them, also being miners, despite the differing climates and cultures of their homes.

Three days after the end of the Exposure Trial, the _Hopeless Redoubt_ lay over the Forge World, and picked up the Aspirants there.

After this, the final trial, the Knowledge of Self Trial, was done. It was far less dangerous than the previous trials, but it still carried with it great peril, as it involved the Chief Librarian of the Power Marines chapter probing their minds with his psychic powers, reading their thoughts and projecting nightmarish images upon them. Many of the hundred or so Aspirants from the six worlds broke, begging for the visions to stop. Some went insane, and others, the stronger willed and those select few gifted with psychic powers, managed to expel the Librarian from their heads, if only temporarily.

After an hour, the trial was done, with about thirty of the Aspirants having been driven mad or simply ceasing the trial. The remaining seventy had passed, Yariel, Crau and Orion among this number. Finally, after a long, hard six weeks, the Trials were complete. Seventy of the few thousand Aspirants had passed all three trials, and were ready to begin the gene-seed implantation.

* * *

_**Four Years Later  
**_

Sergant Ivan stood before his five new squad members. Each had recently received their final gene-seed implant, the Black Carapace. Each one had underwent four years of mental conditioning, training, teaching, studying and had been fed an incredibly specific diet, being monitored to make sure that every morsel of the nutrient rich diet that was supplemented with Human Growth Hormone was consumed so as to best work with their gene-seed implants and allow them to grow into the space marines they were destined to be.

"Brother Yariel, what is the first teaching laid down by Guilliman for all Astartes in the Codex?" Ivan asked.

"With combat knife, boltgun and grenade, the Space Marine shall assail his foe." Yariel recited from memory, almost chanting.

"Brother Orion, what is the next passage in the Codex Astartes?" Ivan demanded.

"The Chainsword is the will of the Emperor made manifest." Orion recited. Ivan nodded.

"Good. Brother Keren, what does the Codex command of all Astartes?" Ivan said.

"The Space Marine shall master all weapons, and all battlefields." The initiate recited.

"Precisely. Brother Ajax, what teaching lies within the Codex for all to understand should their position be compromised?" Ivan requested.

"When harried, the Space Marine shall drive his enemies back!" Ajax said enthusiastically. Ivan smiled.

"Good. And finally, brother Crau. What is the most sacred line written in the Codex, at least for our purposes? The one that we, as Power Marines, must take more seriously than any other?" Ivan said. Crau stared straight ahead, not making eye contact.

"The Space Marine shall never know defeat, only victory." Crau said.

"Exactly! Now, my brothers, you have received your final gene-seed implant, the Black Carapace. You have underwent the three trials, you have survived the gene-seed implantation, you have consumed a diet that compliments your gene-seed as you grow, you have trained tirelessly, you have studied the ancient tenets of the Codex Astartes, received mental conditioning to protect against the horrors of war, and have learned to know your enemy, and respect them in kind. However, always remember, that the Codex is not some holy script to be followed to the letter, it is merely a set of guidelines. Even our chapter master, Maximilian, who hailed from the Ultramarines Chapter itself, understands this. For it is an ancient, outdated scripture that only documents our organization and how to deal with threats that Guilliman faced himself, not newer threats, things after his time, such as the Tyranid or the Tau. You must remember to always use your own intuition, and remember; never underestimate your foe. Respect him as you respect your brothers, lest you allow arrogance to cloud your judgement and give the enemy an opening with which to slay you." Ivan said.

"We are the space marines, the Emperor's fury! And they shall know no fear!" He continued.

"AND THEY SHALL KNOW NO FEAR!" The five initiates cried.

* * *

Yariel, Crau, Orion, Keren and Ajax sat in the armoury with Ivan and four other initiates, who already been in Ivan's squad before them. The ten scout marines were receiving their armour, preparing for battle. For the five new initiates, this was their first time wearing armour. Their first time going into battle, after four years of constant training, studying, interrupted only by their need to eat, sleep and occasionally receive new gene-seed implants.

Now, on the planet Averra, far from the Isphyda system, they would go into battle for the first time.

"Are you prepared, brothers?" Ivan asked as the last piece of his armour was fixed into place by chapter serfs. He stood up, and his brothers received their last pieces of armour before they too stood. As one, they nodded.

"On this day, you go into battle for the first time. Or, in the case of those that have been with us since Calro was still sergeant before meeting his untimely demise at the hands of an Eldar witch, this will be just another battle. But for the new Initiates, you will be thrust for the first time into the horrors of war. Some of you will die, unless everything goes perfectly, which is unlikely. Always remember, that no plan survives contact with the enemy." Ivan said. As he spoke, they all strode to the stormraven that awaited them, their weapons already stored aboard.

"We are ready, Brother." Keren said. Ivan shook his head.

"No. None are truly ready for the first time they go into battle, the first time they must take a sentient life, the first time that they are plunged into the violence, the endless screaming and gunfire and clash of steel on steel, the sight of blood and the dead and the dying. None. Not even Astartes." Ivan said. "However, our purpose is meant to be reconnaissance, so we will be far from the actual fighting unless everything gets shot to Hell. In my experience, that tends to happen, so be prepared to fight." Ivan said. They boarded the stormraven that awaited them. As the ramp closed and it began to lift, Ivan spoke one last message to his squad before they entered battle.

"Whether or not we all survive this day, we will succeed in our mission, for the sake of this campaign, the lives of all in this system, and for our own sake. The Emperor is watching over us today, and we cannot fail lest we bring shame to our chapter in his eyes. For the Emperor!"

"FOR THE EMPEROR!" The nine scouts echoed as the stormraven took off and sped down to the planet below.

* * *

**Well, here it is, the next chapter, and less than a week after the previous one. Wow, it's been a while since I was able to upload this frequently. **

**So, a few things to address. First of all, you might have noticed that the pace has picked up from "Staggering Crawl" to "More abusive of timeskips than The Dark Knight Rises and Les Miserables". This is largely due to my own frustration with my inability to wrap things up in a timely fashion as well as advice from one of my long-time readers, BIBOTOT, to hurry the fuck up (paraphrased from the reviews BIBOTOT left, you can look at them if you want). I never meant for the Trials to last so long, and I was hoping to have gotten to the main plot by this point in time, so I sped things up a little. Yay.**

**Next thing, is you may have noticed that I stopped referring to the characters as "Boys" and started calling them "aspirants". That's mainly due to the fact that after the Exposure Trial, I felt it would be inappropriate to continue calling them boys as if they were still children, when a month of hard living in a desert with friends dropping like flies is enough to give some cajones to anyone who survives. They've been through a very hard period, they're not children anymore. They are men. Space Marines. So yeah, that's just explaining my brief change in terminology. Not that it matters anyway, since they are full-fledged space marines now, and the next chapter will involve them wrecking shit in an appropriate manner.**

**Finally, I hope you enjoyed the newest chapter! It was a bit of a rush job, but I just wanted to get the Trial part of the story over and done with. Leave a review, and ask any questions you feel need asking, I'm eager to answer them. And methinks I'll start answering reviews within the chapter so all can see what I have to say, not just in PM. Anyways, stay tuned for the next chapter, which may take a while to write, since I'm aiming for at least 5,000 words. Bye!**


	7. Chapter 7

Everything was dark in the stormraven as it soared down towards the surface of the planet. Its engines hummed gently, and a dim red glow was all that illuminated the interior of the craft. Yariel glanced around at his squad. Despite the lack of light, his Occulobe made seeing in this dim room child's play. Nobody spoke as they flew down to their destination. He wanted to pace about the room to occupy the time, but he was strapped into a harness and could not. Instead, he checked his gun, making sure the bolter was in good condition, despite having done so twice before they boarded the stormraven. The rifle was in perfect condition, just like ten minutes ago. It was fully loaded and ready to fire, just like ten minutes ago. He took a deep breath, gritting his teeth as the craft hit a patch of turbulence, shaking violently for a moment. After what seemed like an eternity, the stormraven landed. The harness locking Yariel to the wall released, and he took a tentative step to the ramp as it lowered. The rest of his squad also moved for the ramp, ten armed space marines filing out of the stormraven. Yariel was the last out, leaving shortly after Crau. He looked around at the night sky, taking in the sights before looking at Ivan as the sergeant spoke.

"Alright, brothers. Here we are. Our job is to search the area. The Orks were last seen headed for the mountains, we need to find out how far they've gotten since yesterday." Ivan said. "Fan out, split into groups of two. Keren, with me. Keep vox activity to a minimum. Only use it if you've discovered the enemy's location, or if they discover you. Yariel, Orion, head west for the gorge. Crau, Ajax, north to the cliffs. Nero, Yuriv, head for the valley. Kara, Lucen, I want you heading down the mountain and searching around the foot. Keren and I will travel east."

After this, the squad split up, Yariel and Orion started moving west, walking in silence with only the buzzing of insects and the crunching of their boots on gravel interrupting the still night air. After ten minutes, the going became tough as they had to wend their way through uneven ground, climbing up boulders and ledges as they headed for the gorge. They slung their guns across their shoulders after the first ledge, and hadn't bothered to ready them afterwards.

"If I have to climb another fucking ledge..." Orion grunted as he hauled himself up the rock-face. Yariel followed him, grunting with exertion as he climbed. When he was at the top, he glanced at his friend.

"What? If you have to climb another ledge, what?" Yariel asked, grinning.

"Don't fucking start, Yariel. Just move." Orion growled, setting off at a brisk pace. Yariel followed, chuckling but not saying anything. They walked on in silence until they came to a cliff. Yariel looked down the cliff. It was not a long drop into the gorge.

"Here we-" Yariel began. Orion covered Yariel's mouth with his left hand, placing the index finger of his right hand over his lips. He pointed down into the gorge. Yariel looked as he heard grunting from inside the gorge. Where Orion was pointing, three large beasts stood, green-skinned, taller than any man with a squat frame and short, stubby legs. Long green arms bulging with muscles hung down from their sides, hands ending in long fingers, talon-like nails extending from the ends of those fingers. Their heads jutted forward out of their chests, a green lump of muscle and bone with small, beady yellow eyes staring out of their sockets, flat noses with rings through them and cruel tusks sticking out of their severe under-bite. One carried a rifle, one carried a pistol and a short, primitive sword. The third carried two axes.

"Oi, Grotbasha!" The one with the rifle said. The beast wielding two axes grunted, glaring at the one who spoke and bashing him about the head with the haft of his axe.

"Wot?" Grotbasha demanded, bashing the blades of his axes together for emphasis.

"Ya eva wonder why we'ze 'ere?" The first one asked, unperturbed by the recent blow to the head.

"Well, dat'z cos da boss sed we'ze needz ta be 'ere." Grotbasha responded, spitting.

"Nah, I'z don't mean _'ere _'ere. I'z ment why iz we 'ere, like, dat fancy word dem 'umiez use... Existin' woz it, Bluddgit?" The first one asked.

"Ah, shut it, ya muck-sucka!" Bluddgit, the one with the pistol and sword, barked. The first one shrugged.

"Dat word. Why iz we 'ere?" He said. Grotbasha pondered this for a moment, eventually snarling in rage when he could not think of a response.

"'Coz da boss sed we'ze should be!" Grotbasha snarled.

"No, I'z mean-" The first one began.

"I'Z DON'T GIVE A FLAMIN' SQUIG'S ASS! WE IZ 'ERE BECOZ DA BOSS SED WE SHOULD BE 'ERE! AND E'Z DA BOSS 'COZ 'E'Z DA BIGGEST!" Grotbasha bellowed, bashing the first Ork about the head with the haft of his axe a second time. The first ork stumbled backwards and fell onto his behind, blinking.

"Well, dat's just rude, dat is..." The first ork said. Yariel glanced at Orion.

"A true philosophical genius." Yariel muttered, unholstering his bolter and taking aim. Orion pushed the gun away before Yariel could pull the trigger.

"No. If there are any more of them around, then they'll hear us. We need to get an idea of our surroundings." Orion said. Yariel frowned, wondering how he had not thought of this.

"Good point. You see if you can find away around them to search the area. I'll stay here and keep an eye out." Yariel said. Orion nodded.

"Vox Ivan, let him know we've found some Orks." Orion told him. Yariel nodded and Orion began picking his way down a nearby rock-face. Yariel eyed the Orks as they got into a debate. The topic of this debate seemed to be on more existential matters, but with even more blows to the head. He sighed as he activated his vox-caster.

"Brother-sergeant," He said. "Orion and I have found greenskins. There are three of them in the gorge." He waited a moment.

"Copy that." Came the voice of Ivan. "Do not engage, wait until you have more info."

"By your word, sergeant." Yariel said. There was no response. He did not think on this and turned his attention to the Orks. They had stopped arguing. Yariel should have hoped so, since the one with the shoota had an axe embedded in his skull. Grotbasha was urinating on a rock and Bluddgit was yanking teeth out of the dead Ork's mouth, giggling helplessly each time he removed a tooth and stuffed it into his pockets. After a few moments, Grotbasha finished his business and turned around, stretching his long arms and belching. As he belched, his gaze drifted to Yariel, and his beady eyes widened.

"Oi, git!" Grotbasha yelled, beating Bluddgit about the head as he pulled another tooth. Bluddgit snarled.

"Wot!" The ork demanded.

"It's an 'umie!" Grotbasha declared, pointing at Yariel. Before Bluddgit could follow the gaze of Grotbasha, Yariel had fired off two shots in rapid succession. A round ripped through the skull of Grotbasha and detonated, ripping apart the head of the large beast, sending blood and bone and brains and viscera flying as the second round was plunged into the chest cavity of Bluddgit, tearing much of his innards to shreds. However, this did not stop Bluddgit, who grunted as thick red gore sprayed from the gaping hole in his chest.

"WAAAGH!" Bluddgit roared, coughing blood. He raised his pistol but never fired, three bolter rounds ripping into his arm, gut and skull and detonating. The ravaged corpse hit the ground with a thud, thick crimson fluid spreading in a puddle around him. Yariel lowered his rifle as his vox-caster crackled.

"Yariel, what did you do?" Orion demanded.

"One of them saw me. I shot them." Yariel responded. "Have you found any other Orks?"

"No, but there could be some around. It's a big place. You were careless." Orion said.

"Oh, shut the fuck up." Yariel snapped. "I had no choice."

"I don't care. Let's go back to the stormraven, now that every greenskin within earshot of a bolter knows we're here." Orion said. Yariel scowled but chose not to respond. He turned and began heading back the way they had come. It was a long trip, but eventually he reached the stormraven, Orion not far behind him.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Orion snapped when he reached the craft. "Did you even _try_ to conceal yourself?" He demanded. Yariel opened his mouth to respond, but no words came. He scowled. Finally, words came.

"No, I did not, because there was no place to go that did not offer me a view of them so that I could make sure they weren't off to fucking kill you." Yariel growled.

"Oh, don't make this about me, you-" Orion began, but before he could finish, their vox-casters crackled. The sounds of gunfire, distorted by the vox, were accompanied by the distant sounds of the same guns firing.

"We've made contact!" Came the voice of Crau. "We've found their whole army! Ajax, get down!" The vox cut off, all that told them that Crau and Ajax were still breathing was the distant sound of gunfire. Yariel and Orion readied their guns.

"Let's go and help." Yariel said. Orion shook his head. "No, we can't leave the transport unguarded. If the Orks have made it this far, we can't give them a chance to destroy our only way out. Let the rest of the squad help them." Yariel did not respond. He knew Orion was right. Though the thought of it pained him, he knew that he had to leave Crau, his childhood friend, to his own devices and hope that the rest of the squad was near enough to help him come out of it unscathed. And so they waited, hoping the gunfire never stopped, for if it did, the worst had happened. Eventually, the gunfire did die down. They tried voxing the rest of the squad, but there was no response. They waited in stony silence, bolters ready. Finally, footsteps became audible, heavy boots crunching gravel. The noise came from behind and Yariel turned. There stood Crau, Ivan, Keren and Nero. Crau was sporting several wounds and although they had been closed by his Larraman's Organ gene-seed implant, he still looked in a sorry state. Ivan was covered in Ork blood and carried in his arms the body of Yuriv, a large hole in the side of the dead Astartes' head. Nero and Keren both held the body of Ajax, Nero holding him by the legs and Keren by the arms. Ajax was riddle with bullet-holes and it was impossible to say which of them had killed him.

"Kara and Lucen are dead." Ivan spat. "We saw them get cut to pieces, but we couldn't reach them. Quickly, on the stormraven. We managed to shake them off, but it's only a matter of time before we're found." He said. None of them questioned this order. They filed into the craft, Yariel and Orion standing guard as the other scout marines entered before they boarded it themselves. The ramp closed behind them and the transport lifted off once they were in harnesses. It soared into the sky, coming under fire almost immediately. However, the Orks did not have any dedicated anti-air guns and so any shots that managed to hit had a negligible effect, barely being felt by those inside. Soon, they were back in orbit aboard the _Hopeless Redoubt_.

* * *

"Brothers!" Captain Octavian of the Power Marines 2nd Company yelled. The 2nd company beat their fists against their chests once. Yariel looked down on this beside Ivan from a balcony above the hall where the 2nd company was assembled.

"The Orks are at the mountains. The refugees do not stand a chance of escaping them at the rate they are advancing across the continent. Our allies, the Salamanders, had hoped to escort them to the capital before they met the Orks in battle, but it is too late. They have begun fortifying. The Orks have already started to advance once more and we must reach the ground before they can overwhelm the Salamanders. Let us not delay any further. To the drop pods! For the Emperor!" Octavian declared.

"And They Shall Know No Fear!" The 2nd company chanted as one. They began filing out of the hall, and Yariel turned to Ivan.

"What will we be doing in the battle?" Yariel asked. Ivan looked at him.

"Our job will be to raid the flanks of the Ork force. We'll be on bikes. You remember how to ride one?" Ivan said. Yariel scowled.

"Yes. Of course I do." He said.

"Good. Be sure to get a shotgun from the armoury before we head down. You'll find it a hell of a lot more useful than a bolter when you're moving at a hundred miles an hour and can't aim." Ivan said. "We should be getting help from the 2nd company's assault marines and possibly the Salamanders assault marines as well, if Captain Mir'san is kind enough to provide. Now go on, get ready."

"As you say, brother." Yariel said, turning and walking away. He made for the armoury and soon reached the location. Inside the armoury, a handful of space marines lingered, oiling their weapons and tending to the machine spirits of their guns. Yariel nodded as he passed an Astartes of the 2nd company and was greeted by a cold stare through blood red lenses in an expressionless helmet. He reached a wall where several weapons hung and removed a shotgun from it. The gun seemed in order, well-oiled and looked after. After a brief inspection, he slung the gun over his shoulder and left the armoury, ignoring the marines of the 2nd company. He then headed for the hangar. As he made his way there, the _Hopeless Redoubt _rumbled briefly as drop pods were launched. After what seemed like an eternity of walking, he reached the hangar. There, two thunderhawk gunships sat, one's ramp down and the other with its ramp up. Ivan and the rest of the squad stood there waiting.

"Come on, then. The bikes are in this one." Ivan said, pointing at the thunderhawk with its ramp down. He then looked away from Yariel and walked up the ramp of the transport. Yariel and the rest of the squad followed. There were thirty safety harnesses in this ship and in between them, half a dozen Astartes Scout Bikes were magnetically locked to the floor. Once the squad was strapped into the harnesses, the ramp closed. There was a brief delay and then the craft hummed to life. It took off and they were away, soaring down through the atmosphere to the planet's surface. After a brief trip, the craft shook violently as if it had just been hit by something, but immediately after it continued flying as normal. Faintly, Yariel could make out the sound of explosions, muffled and distorted by distance and the hull of the thunderhawk.

"Calm down, not to worry." Ivan called. "We're just being shot at, everything is fine." After this, he chuckled. "I'm surprised they hit us in the first try, to be honest. Orks are shit marksmen." Nobody responded to him, and he grumbled silently, something about a lack of appreciation. A short while later, the craft shuddered violently as it landed. Yariel quickly removed his safety harness and ran over to the nearest bike. Attached to the front was a grenade launcher. Yariel hopped on, disabling the mag-lock as the rest of the squad mounted up. After a minute, the ramp began to slowly lower. When it was all the way down, with blinding light streaming through and the noise of battle raging all around them, Yariel hit the accelerator. He shot out of the thunderhawk and into the chaos of battle.

As he zoomed across the dirt, the sounds of gunfire and explosions were all around him. Ahead, a writhing mass of green bodies surged on at a distant barricade. Yariel could make out several green-clad Astartes atop the barricade, many carrying large-caliber machine guns that spat death and destruction at a constant rate, cutting down dozens of Orks every second. These were the Devastators of the Salamanders 2nd company, wielding heavy bolters in lieu of their preferred multi-meltas. Within the mass of Orks, Yariel could see the black-armoured warriors of the Power Marines second company, fighting back the green tide with bolter and chainsword, gun and blade as the bodies piled up around them. Soon, Yariel was within range and squeezed the trigger attached to the handles of his bike, sending a frag grenade into an Ork as the beast struck the head from the shoulders of a Power Marine tactical marine. The grenade detonated and where the greenskinned brute had been a moment before, there was only a fine red mist and an eviscerated corpse. Yariel took one hand off the handles to unsling his shotgun and as he rapidly turned the bike around, he fired blindly, sending a spray of pellets into a passing Ork boy as he turned and rode back the way he had come. As he rode away, the rest of his squad passed by and unleashed their own deadly payloads before turning and riding after Yariel at breakneck pace, soon catching up with him. A dozen meters away, Crau whooped triumphantly while covered in gore. Overhead, twenty space marines soared, jump packs screaming, pistols firing, chainswords revving as they smashed into the Ork horde. A handful of shots went after the squad, but they all went wide. After riding for a few hundred meters, Ivan yelled to turn and so turn they did, zooming back towards the Orks for a second attack.

As they rode this time, they rode in a spearhead formation, Ivan at the head. Yariel saw the battle raging ahead and in the distance, a handful of dark green rhino transports trundled steadily along the dirt towards the Orks, two Salamanders space marines firing out the top hatches of the metal box. Yariel had little time to take anything else in as soon he was within range of the Orks and this time, as he squeezed the trigger on the grenade launcher and send a spray of pellets to accompany the grenade, the Orks were shooting back. A bullet bounced off his pauldron and a second grazed the armoured front wheel. He turned around and rode away with the squad a second time. When they were a significant distance away, Ivan called for them to stop briefly to reload. They all placed new cartridges in their shotguns and the grenade launchers reloaded themselves and with that, they were away again for a third pass. The third pass went in much the same way as the first two, as did the fourth and fifth.

It was the sixth pass that was different. As they rode for the enemy, the rhinos of the Salamander came to a stop as they were swamped with scores of Ork Boyz and from its doors, squads of space marines were disgorged, spitting death from their bolters as men with flamers unleashed a torrent of prometheum from their weapons, roasting dozens of greenskins alive. Many more were cut down by bolters, being torn to ribbons as Salamander and Power Marine tactical squads fired relentlessly and the devastators on the barricade continued their barrage. Assault marines from the salamanders had joined the fray and now nearly forty assault marines were hacking through the Orks, using their chainswords to turn many a foe to bloody ribbons, sending chunky gore everywhere while their black armour of the Power Marines and the green armour of the Salamanders became stained with red.

As the scout squad came in for their sixth pass on the Orks, an Ork with a large gun turned his attention to them and squeezed the trigger, waving the gun around madly while cackling and screaming warcries. This would normally not mean anything, except a stray bullet found the skull of Nero. Yariel looked in horror as a hole appeared in the forehead of his battle-brother and the hole erupted with blood and brain. Nero was sent flying from his bike as it crashed into an assault marine and exploded, killing the assault marine and the Ork he was in the process of gutting. Yariel roared in anger as he fired at the Orks, firing grenade after grenade as he plowed through the Orks, running down several and blowing many more apart. After a minute, an Ork stopped his bike by driving his axe into the front wheel as he was run over and Yariel was thrown from it, crashing into another Ork. He was not deterred, ramming the barrel of his shotgun down the Ork's throat and pulling the trigger as the beast swung its axe madly. Yariel reloaded his gun and cleaned the blood from it before continuing on his rampage, mowing down another two Orks with a single shot and sending another into the back of an Ork. Then, he turned to see a large, crude club rapidly approaching his face and then everything went dark.


	8. Chapter 8

Crau crouched behind his scout bike, reloading his shotgun. He was covered in blood and dust and dirt. Several armour-piercing rounds had hit the wheels of his bike and now he was in the middle of the conflict. Fortunately, it had only been immobilized and so he had not been killed and the bulk of the fighting had moved away so he was not right in the center of it all. When his gun was loaded, he rose to his full height and fired two shots in quick succession at an approaching Ork. Blood sprayed into the air and it hit the ground hard. He reloaded his gun again and fired two more shots. No Orks were close and so the pellets spread out, hitting a handful of somewhat distant Orks that were in the midst of a bloody melee with a squad of Salamanders assault marines. None were killed by the blast from his shotgun, but they were distracted long enough to be torn to shreds by the chainswords of the assault squad. The squad activated their jump packs and soared into the air, flying off to their next target. Crau looked around. He did not need to take cover. All of the fighting had moved away from him and he was in no danger, so he took a moment to survey the battlefield.

The bodies were strewn everywhere, eviscerated Ork corpses littering the ground and their crimson blood watering the dirt. Here and there, some space marines also lay, their armour rent and torn. One marine, an assault marine from the Power Marines, lay spread-eagle on the ground with his chest ripped wide open, scraps of armour lying around him and his crushed ribcage and pulped organs visible to all. Crau looked away from that grisly sight and saw, next to a heap of dead orks, a dead assault marine in black and two wrecked bikes, Yariel, lying on the ground. Crau's eyes widened and he looked around. Now, the fighting truly was nowhere near him and the Orks were routing. Crau vaulted his bike and sprinted for Yariel, skidding to a halt and kneeling. He looked his friend over and breathed a sigh of relief. Yariel was not dead, just unconscious. As he studied Yariel, he heard the sounds of engines revving and soon, three bikes pulled up beside him.

"We've won. Is he dead?" Ivan asked as he dismounted his bike. Crau shook his head as he stood.

"Just unconscious, the bloody idiot." Crau said.

"You can say that again." Orion said angrily. "What the fuck was he thinking, charging into them when Nero died?" He muttered.

"Doesn't matter. He's alive and he took a few of the greenskins down with him before they knocked him out." Crau said. "Let's get him to the transport. They don't need us in the battle, it's won." With this, Keren aproached and helped Crau pick him up. It was a long walk back to the thunderhawk, but they finally made it after a while. When they were aboard, Crau and Keren strapped Yariel into a harness and then buckled up themselves. As the transport lifted off, Yariel began to stir, groaning.

"Rise and shine, brother." Ivan called. Yariel blinked and looked around.

"Where... What happened? Did we win?" He asked. Crau nodded.

"No thanks to you." Orion said. "Did you think racing full-tilt into an ork horde was a good idea? We're scouts, damn it, at least wait until they give us power armour before doing something fucking stupid like that." At this, Yariel scowled.

"Leave him alone." Crau said. "Nero got shot, can you blame him? I'm still shaken up about it myself."

"Shaken up? You're a space marine, Crau. We do not get 'shaken up'. Something went wrong with your hypnotherapy? We all underwent it when we got our Occulobe implants. And They Shall Know No Fear, it says in the Codex Astartes." Ivan said. Crau narrowed his eyes.

"I know what is written in the Codex. I'm just... Not used to combat. And I am tired. It will pass, Ivan." Crau said. Ivan raised his hands defensively.

"Alright, alright, I was just teasing. They shouldn't have any more need of us for the rest of the campaign, get some rest when we're back on the _Hopeless Redoubt_." Ivan said. Crau nodded and sighed. From there, the trip up was silent and uneventful. Soon, they were back aboard the ship and Crau retired to his cell, taking the opportunity to get some sleep rather than using his Catalepsean Node to rest small parts of his brain whilst keeping the rest active.

Ivan had been right, the scout squad was not required for the rest of the campaign. For two weeks, the Power Marines and Salamanders purged the Ork menace from the world, forging a strong bond between the two chapters that would last for centuries. After 15 days, the last Ork had been purged from the planet and after the captains of each chapter's respective 2nd company had said their farewells, the Power Marines departed, heading home for Isphyda.

* * *

_**Thirty-Seven Years Later **_

It had been a long time since Crau was a scout marine. After seven years of service as a scout, Yariel, Crau and Orion had been promoted and joined the ranks of the devastators in the 9th company. There, they had been reunited with Keren and Ivan, the former of which carried a lascannon and the latter of which was now a sergeant. Crau, Yariel and Orion initially carried boltguns and served only as backups in case the men with lascannons were killed, though over the course of a decade and a half as devastators, nobody in the squad had been killed and when Ivan and Keren had moved on to the ranks of the assault marines, Crau had been made sergeant while the others wielded lascannons. They fought like this for another decade before joining the assault marines in the 8th company. For the past five years they had resided in an assault squad with Ivan and Keren and they had reaped a bloody toll on every battlefield they descended upon. Now, on a new world, a new battleground, the forces of Chaos had taken root, infecting much of the populace with their taint. The majority of the people of the planet Agora were in the thrall of the Iron Warriors legion under Warsmith Savanax and only the planetary capital remained outside the hands of the Iron Warriors. It was here that the Power Marines took a stand, rallying what few members of the Planetary Defense Force and Imperial Guard that remained uncorrupted in defense of the city, Hypatia. Three full companies as well as scout marines, veterans of the 1st company and much of the chapter's armour waited behind the walls as the Iron Warriors drew closer.

* * *

**877.M41, Planet Agora, Hypatia City  
**

Crau stood on the walls of Hypatia, staring out into the dark sky as rain poured down in sheets relentlessly. His armour was slick and glistened whenever light fell on him. Out there, approaching from beyond view, were the Iron Warriors and their traitor forces. Countless heavy weapons teams, anti-air tanks and devastator squads were stationed along the walls, their guns at the ready. Nobody rested and constant vigilance was preached by Chapter Master Maximilian. Crau looked out at the muddy plains and rolling, mud-soaked hills in the distance. When the Iron Warriors arrived, they would find a tough target awaiting them. Word had it that there was a titan in their ranks. Crau hoped this was not true, but if it was, at least a shadowsword tank had survived the war so far. It's volcano cannon would prove invaluable if the guns of the titan found themselves trained on the walls of Agora.

He shook his head, leaving his thoughts behind. He was not needed on the walls at the moment. He turned on his heel and headed for a nearby staircase which took him down into the city. It was quiet. Nobody was permitted to leave their houses and several terrified eyes followed him as he walked through the streets from their windows. He payed them no heed and as he walked, he heard the sounds of an engine and of tank treads crunching gravel and squelching mud underneath it. He looked to the right and saw a predator tank approaching, its lascannons staring him down. The tank rolled forward and a hatch atop it opened. A space marine rose from the hatch.

"Brother Crau, what are you doing here?" The space marine called.

"I was watching the fields from the walls and am headed back to the city square now." Crau responded. The marine nodded, acknowledging.

"Hurry there and best not come to the walls again unless instructed. It's dangerous and the Iron Warriors draw closer with every passing minute." The marine told him. Crau nodded and set off at a brisk pace, striding quickly for his destination. Soon, he arrived at the city square where the assault and tactical squads of the Power Marines were camped. Two hundred and fifty power-armoured astartes camped, some sitting, some standing. They were all vigilant, ready for anything, for any order and to go to any part of the city that they were needed in. After some searching, Crau located his squad and joined them.

"G'day." Yariel said when he saw Crau. Crau waved and looked at the rest of the squad.

"What did you see?" Orion asked. Crau shrugged.

"Nothing new, just mud." He said. "Anything happen while I was gone?"

"If it had, you'd have been told over the vox." Ivan said. "Though I think we'll be getting orders soon. The Iron Warriors can't be far now and I expect we'll hear from their air-power any minute now." As if on cue, the vox network exploded with chatter and in the distance, several shrieks split the air and almost immediately, the anti-air guns on the walls opened up, sending a stream of rounds into the air. Crau could make out shapes in the distance and he blink-clicked an icon that appeared on his HUD, zooming his visor in on these shapes. One he focused on in particular, flames trailing from its gaping maw, framed by jagged teeth. Its long spine extended from behind its dragon-like head and long, pointed wings of twisted metal and flesh spread out from either side of this... Creature. Crau knew what it was, he had studied the forces of chaos at great length on the way to Agora. They were called Heldrakes and they were the warped, corrupted, daemonically possessed result of space marine aircraft falling into the hands of chaos. Dozens of them filled the air now, soaring for the city walls from the south. Many were shot down within seconds of their appearance as the sky was filled with anti-air rounds and energy beams directed at the approaching swarm. Despite the casualties these fiends soared through the air for the city with reckless abandon, roaring their spine-crawling roar that was in truth the amplified screams of the pilot trapped inside.

Soon, the aircraft reached the wall of Agora and set upon it like carrion birds to the aftermath of a battle, plummeting down, shrieking, blowing flames upon the defenders and picking some up, flying back into the air and dropping those they had grabbed onto the ground below before setting back upon the wall. Crau's eyes widened as he witnessed this. Hundreds of guardsmen were slaughtered within minutes and few of these fiendish aircraft were destroyed in exchange. But as they set upon the unfortunate defenders on the south wall, they were met with equal ferocity as Vendettas and Stormhawk Interceptors took off from the landing pads in the city and moved to intercept the Heldrakes. Soon, the air around the south wall was filled with fire and zooming aircraft and blazing guns. Crau could barely follow it all as several aircraft blossomed into flames as they were destroyed. Whatever the case, this gave some kind of respite to the guardsmen and space marines on the wall who took a moment to rest as the battle raged above them.

Though it was difficult to tell, Crau thought that the Imperial flyers were winning as more Heldrakes were destroyed than Vendettas and Stormhawks. Soon, the Heldrakes disengaged en masse and the handful of survivors flew back in the direction they had come from. The Imperial flyers pursued briefly but did not keep up the chase, returning to the city and landing as the vox was alive with commanders, particularly the chapter master, giving orders for the south wall to be reinforced. Many guardsmen streamed to the wall toting autocannons and lascannons and a handful of tactical squads left the square to head south.

"Well shit." Crau said finally, breaking the silence that had fallen over his squad-mates. Yariel looked at him.

"You don't say." Yariel said meekly.

"Look lively, brothers, we may be called to fight soon." Ivan interjected. "From the vox chatter, it looks like the Iron Warriors are within sight."

And they were. Though he did not witness this part of the battle personally, later Crau had been told of it; thousands of traitor guardsmen and cultists clad in red uniforms and black armour charging from the hills through the mud, firing assortments of autoguns, lasguns and other ineffective weaponry as they sprinted for the wall. The heavy weapons teams on the wall opened up, mowing down hundreds upon hundreds of traitors as they charged for the walls. They came in a constant stream, more and more emerging from the hills to charge head-first at the wall despite the slaughter before them.

Crau heard many voices on the vox, men screaming for more ammo and reinforcements, much cursing and statements that the enemy was drawing closer and the like. Soon, it appeared the the enemy had reached the wall and was trying to blow apart the gate to the city as they were mercilessly mowed down. There were apparently so many men at the wall with more streaming forth every second that the gunners on the walls simply could not make a dent in the horde of disposable bodies.

And then, Crau and many other Astartes were directly addressed on the vox.

"Brothers, they are at the wall! It is time we showed these heretics the wrath of the Emperor!" Came the voice of chapter master Maximilian.

"Looks like our cue. Come on, let's go and kill some bastards." Ivan said enthusiastically. Crau nodded and soon, almost half of the space marines in the square had departed for the wall, jogging for their destination. After a long run through the city, they finally reached the wall and Crau was among the first to ascend the stairs. When he reached the top, he found himself next to a heavy weapons team manning an autocannon. They fired non-stop, sending the high-caliber rounds downwards. Crau voiced a greeting but they ignored him and he peered over the wall to a horrifying sight.

Thousands upon thousands of cultists, traitor guardsmen and soldiers stood at the wall, pressing against it and firing their guns into the air in the hopes of doing something. Bodies were everywhere but at the base of the wall they were thickest, a massive mound of immense proportions swelling with every passing seconds as men climbed atop it and were promptly mowed down, adding to the pile as it grew taller and taller. Yet despite the horrific slaughter, they continued, uncaring for the horrendous losses they suffered. Slowly, the guns on the wall began to cease fire and a command went through the vox: Attack. Crau, his squad beside him, revved his chainsword and activated his jump pack, soaring up into the air and then plummeting downwards.

He crashed into the pile of bodies, ripping a cultist in two and squashing corpses beneath him, sending blood flying. He was surrounded by an endless tide of men and he whirled his chainsword around in red, spinning arcs, leaving gore and eviscerated corpses and severed limbs in his wake as he fired indiscriminately with his bolt pistol into the unending mass. All around him, dozens of other space marines did the same and above they received fire support from tactical squads but despite the bloody tally they reaped, they barely made a difference, instead only serving to grow the pile of bodies by the wall. Crau cursed; the pile of corpses was almost as tall as the wall itself, so many contributed to it. He had no clue how long they could keep this up; he did not tire at all but the enemy was beyond count and he had experienced less suicidal ferocity and fewer bodies from Orks. Then, he was ripped from his thoughts by an explosion not far from him. An artillery shell smashed down a few meters away, sending severed limbs and mangled bodies flying and filling the air with screams of terror and pain. He stumbled from the impact and a mass of writhing bodies surged forward, overwhelming him. As he struggle to regain balance, he swung his blade wildly to keep back his foes but this simply served to send him falling onto his back easier. As he fell, he heard the spine of a wounded cultist snapping in two beneath him followed by a moan of agony. Dozens of cultists overwhelmed him, stabbing and hacking and slashing at his armour, trying to break through. He flailed around wildly, kicking and slicing with his chainsword. He heard more artillery shells and more screams and he roared in anger and terror, slashing his chainsword wildly and decapitating four cultists. He bisected another and forced himself to his feet, punching and kicking and stabbing and slashing at anybody who tried to stop him. He was drenched in gore and the rain sent it running down his armour, leaving the black battle-plate with a dark red sheen. He swung his chainsword in the air in front of him to deter any would-be attackers and then took a moment to take stock of the situation.

Far away, in the hills, he could make out basilisk tanks and chaos defilers alongside a group of grey-armoured individuals who stood silently as more and more red-uniformed traitors surged forwards. The chaos-space marines of the Iron Warriors legion, Crau realized, using a typical Iron Warriors tactic. He scowled and looked on either side of him. As far as he could see, his fellow marines fought tooth and nail to try and hold their position and by now, the pile of bodies was well and truly close to the top of the wall: the tactical marines providing fire support were barely two meters above him. As he took this in, a cultist approached waving a plasma pistol. Crau only registered this as the gun trained on his head and the trigger was squeezed.

"No!" He yelled, rushing forward, but he was too late. A glob of superheated plasma shot forth and he ducked to the side a little, managing to stop it from melting his head entirely but still it melted through the left side of his helmet and completely melted his left cheek, burning the bones beneath. He roared in agony and plunged forward for the cultist, taking his chainsword in a two-handed grip and shoving it through the abdomen of the one who had wounded him, revving it and twisting and jerking it around inside him, sending gore flying and causing the worst pain imaginable to the cultist. He withdrew it and set about slaughtering more and more, no longer caring how much he contributed to the pile of bodies. His world was nothing but the slaughter in that moment, the focus on ending as many lives as possible in revenge for his injury. He could no longer see out of his left eye, but he did not care and kept ploughing through cultist after cultist as they tried desperately to fight back. But their weapons did nothing and only served to anger him further.

Finally, he calmed down a little after several minutes of unadulterated slaughter. He heard through the vox an order to withdraw back to the wall immediately and he stopped for a moment, finally realizing that the cultists were retreating. They had been almost completely wiped out and now they ran, streaming back for the hills by the hundreds. The heavy weapons teams and devastators on the walls finally opened fire again, cutting down the fleeing cultists without mercy. Crau prepared to activate his jump pack but then realized that he only needed to take a couple steps to be atop the wall again thanks to the gigantic pile of corpses. He turned and clambered onto the wall. Few space marines had been killed and the artillery shells kept coming, though most either fell short, hit the pile of bodies or landed in the city, destroying houses. Crau's face was cold, he realized. His flesh had melted but then cooled from the rain and he imagined the left side of his face was now horribly disfigured. Blood also covered his face, but the rain was washing that off, along with the blood that covered every inch of his armour.

"Oh, shit, here they come again!" A guardsman yelled. Crau looked over the wall. He was half-right. The enemy was indeed attacking again, but it was not the cultists this time. Instead, the grey-armoured traitor Astartes of the Iron Warriors advanced slowly, tanks trundling alongside them. And far, far away, Crau could make out the outline of a warhound titan striding through the hills. They had weathered the first storm, but now another came, far deadlier than the first. And the defenders were weary from the fighting.

"We might need the rest of the army." Yariel said over the vox. Crau looked around, wondering where Yariel was. He could not find him, but responded.

"I agree." He said.

"Lucky you, then. The chapter master is coming with them. Didn't you hear him over the vox earlier, or were you too busy killing?" Orion said.

"The second. This should be fun." Crau said, sighing. He had lost his bolt pistol and his chainsword was clogged with chunks of heretic. He looked around and nearby saw a dead guardsman sergeant, a laspistol and chainsword by his side. He walked over to the corpse and picked up the blade. It was a bit small for his tastes, not built to be used by a space marine, but it would serve. He tossed aside his own chainsword and looked at the advancing army. Hundreds of Astartes clad in grey power armour approached, toting bolters and various heavy weapons. Scores of chaos raptors, the traitor's equivalent to assault marines, headed the attackers alongside dozens of Khorne berserkers. In the hills, the artillery kept up their bombardment and at the rear of the army, havoc squads and obliterators slowly advanced. As the enemy approached, more and more Guardsmen and Space Marines arrived on the wall.

"FIRE!" A deep voice yelled from somewhere that Crau could not see. The heavy weapons teams, devastator squads and tactical marines opened up, sending a torrent of fire at the approaching Iron Warriors. As they did, artillery shells smashed into the wall, blowing apart guardsman and Astartes alike and sending the bodies flying. One such shell landed within a few meters of Crau and he gritted his teeth as a flying limb caught him in the side of the head while he staggered about. He shook his head and observed the carnage below. The Iron Warriors shrugged off the majority of the fire and only the firepower of the heavy guns and the occasional lucky shot brought any of them down. As they drew closer, more and more went down yet still they pressed on. Artillery shells kept pounding away at the defenders and soon the Iron Warriors began to return fire, autocannons, bolters and missile launchers loosing deadly rounds that tore apart those who were unlucky enough to be in their paths.

"Assault marines, attack!" The voice of the chapter master sounded through the vox. Crau gripped his chainsword firmly and activated his jump pack. Along with scores of other assault marines, he soared into the air and came crashing down amidst the ranks of the Iron Warriors raptors and berserkers. Unlike the cultists from earlier, the Iron Warriors were unfazed and not nearly as easily slaughtered. Crau slashed his weapon across the abdomen of a raptor but the weapon did little against his power armour and the raptor stabbed at him viciously with his own chainsword. Then, a chainsword from behind carved the head from the shoulders of the raptor.

"Stay close!" Yariel yelled through the vox at Crau. Crau nodded and followed his friend, the two of them approaching a raptor from behind as he ravaged the corpse of an assault marine. Yariel brought his chainsword down on the raptor's head while Crau ran him through from behind and when they were done, they stood back to back and fought off raptors and berserkers while the battle raged around them. Soon, Ivan and Orion joined them and the four stayed together as they fought chaos space marines, working together to ensure the survival of one-another. As Crau set upon a chaos space marine and bashed the traitor's bolter aside to ram his chainsword through the unfortunate individual's throat, he took a step back.

"Where's the rest of the squad?" He yelled.

"I saw Markov go down to the cultists, though I'm not sure if they killed him." Ivan responded. "I have no idea where the others are." As he said this, suddenly a blinding flash of light an earsplitting explosion and the violent shaking of the ground indicated that the warhound titan was within range. Crau cursed as it trained its plasma blastguns on the Astartes. He heard the order to retreat and gladly did so, activating his jump pack and soaring back for the wall. He crashed down on it and looked at the Iron Warriors. They had reached the pile of corpses and began ascending it, stepping up slowly as they fired up at the loyalists. Artillery shells continued to hammer down on the wall, the city and the pile of bodies while the chaos warhound titan powered up its plasma blastguns. In a blinding flash of light, a portion of the wall disintegrated along with the bodies stacked against it and the defenders standing on it. Some Iron Warriors were also killed in the blast but they seemed undeterred, continuing to press on. Crau looked in horror as they scaled the corpses, uncaring for how many of their number were killed. Obliterators and havocs fired at the defenders, slaughtering those that they turned their guns on while bolters and autocannons mowed down guardsmen and killed the occasional space marine. The firefight was bloody and many died. As the titan fired again, the same portion of the wall was hit and a breach was created. The Iron Warriors paused and then scores upon scores flocked to the breach, clambering over corpses and scrambling to get into the city. Many more, however, continued their advance, hoping to engage the defenders on the wall directly. The order was given for the assault marines to head for the breach, and groaning, Crau activated his jump pack. As he slammed down on the head of an Iron Warrior, the marine was crushed beneath him and he raked his chainsword over the chestplate of another, leaving deep gashes in the plate. Then, electricity hummed through the air and there was a blinding flash of light. Crau expected this to be the end but then he realized that this light was not the titan.

Twenty terminators teleported into the breach, assault cannons and heavy flamers and cyclone missile launchers and storm bolters opening up on the Iron Warriors while the assault marines continued their bloody work. In the streets, a dozen predator tanks rolled up to the breach and began firing upon the Iron Warriors while overhead, the telltale shrieking of engines signified the return of aircraft to the battle. Crau spared a glance upwards and saw formations of stormhawks, stormtalons and vendetta gunships soaring overhead and zooming for the titan. They began to open fire on it as it fired its plasma blastguns again and though its void shields deflected much of the fire, so much was directed that the shields were beginning to be overwhelmed. Another breach was created but no Iron Warriors surged through this and the shadowsword tank rolled forward through the breach, grinding corpses underneath its treads. It trained its volcano cannon on the warhound titan as the aircraft buzzed around its head, and a red-hot blast was sent its way. The warhound titan's head lit up in a fiery explosion and the massive machine came crashing down on several artillery tanks. The aircraft then set about flying down onto the chaos artillery and soon, it had been silenced.

Crau looked around him and realized that all of the Iron Warriors in the breach had been killed and the hundred or so that still survived were on the walls, fighting against the defenders ferociously. The battle was almost won, but first, the last of the attackers needed to be pushed back. An order was given and the assault marines shot into the air one last time, landing on the wall and alongside the guardsmen and space marines already there, they cut their way through the Iron Warriors, uncaring for the horrendous losses they suffered.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the Iron Warriors began to retreat. Less than twenty of them still lived but as they fled, no parting shots followed them; the defenders on the wall had run out of ammo. Though the cost had been high, the Battle of Hypatia was over.

* * *

**Three Hours Later **

Crau sat as the apothecary examined his face. The white-clad Astartes frowned as he prodded at the lump of disfigured flesh and bone.

"Is there any chance of a return to what it was before, brother Jonah?" Crau asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Fuck, no. Your left eye is gone, your cheekbone is half melted and mixed with all of the skin and muscle. From what I can tell, some of your helmet solidified with your flesh. I'll have to perform reconstructive surgery, you'll need a cybernetic eye and some steel plates to replace the flesh and bone I need to get rid of. You'll never look the way you did before. Not that it matters, you are a space marine, not a prostitute." Jonah said. Crau nodded glumly.

"I suppose so." Crau said.

"It could have been worse. Be thankful for your Larraman's Organ, that shot would have killed a normal man. And be equally grateful your experience with plasma was only from a pistol and not one of the blastguns on that warhound titan. Thirty space marines were hit by that, do you think a disfigured face is one of their chief worries? No, it isn't. They're all dead." Jonah scolded him, turning Crau's head and examining the side.

"Speaking of which, do we have any idea what the casualties are like?" Crau asked. Jonah nodded.

"A hundred space marines confirmed to be dead, fifty who are too wounded to do anything else here. Five missing and likely somewhere in that pile of corpses. As for the Guard and PDF, thousands dead and wounded. We have no idea how many of the enemy we killed, but it doesn't matter. More are coming." Jonah told him.

"More? What?" Crau asked, worried.

"They corrupted 92 percent of the planet's population, do you think they're short on manpower?" Jonah snapped. "This was just one attack. They will be back and with greater numbers. We withstood the first assault easily enough, but it was a huge drain on our numbers and ammunition. I imagine that we'll either be dying heroically or hightailing it the fuck out of here. We'll see when the chapter master finishes with his meditation."

"Of course. Will you be able to perform the surgery soon?" Crau asked. Jonah shook his head.

"Not until we're back in orbit, we don't have the materials required down here. You'll be on the first transport offworld if we choose to evacuate."

"But I can't flee when my brothers fight and die!" Crau complained, though he was secretly glad and this emotion made him feel soiled.

"You can and will, if it comes to it. We won't be remaining for long and the Iron Warriors are likely still regrouping from that assault. Huge numbers or no, we still bloodied their nose and their Warsmith is unlikely to order an attack so soon after so many of his own traitor Astartes were killed. Now fuck off, I have to go and extract the progenoids from the dead." Jonah told him. Crau nodded and stood, walking off. He joined with his squad and sat with them. Keren, Ivan, Yariel and Orion had all survived, as had two other members of their squad. With nothing else to do, they sat and shared stories about the battle.

* * *

Shortly after, Chapter Master Maximilian finished his meditation and determined that they would evacuate. Transports flew down from orbit and ferried civilians by the thousands into orbit. After two hours, all of the civilians had been evacuated and the evacuation of the Power Marines, Imperial Guard and Planetary Defense Force began. First, vehicles were taken back into space and then Guardsmen began to be taken away. When only the space marines remained, they started to evacuate themselves but it was then that the Iron Warriors came again. This time, over a million cultists charged the walls and scaled the pile of corpses but they were met with little resistance as the Power Marines withdrew, loading up onto thunderhawk gunships. As the cultists overran the city, the last of the transports took off and headed for the fleet in orbit. Though the obvious course of action in response to this would be orbital bombardment or even Exterminatus, the fleet in orbit did not bear the munitions to carry out such a task and so simply withdrew. Less than 12 hours after the Battle of Hypatia, Agora was completely in the hands of the Iron Warriors.

* * *

Warsmith Savanax strode through the city of Hypatia, paying no heed to the cultists around him as he walked in his terminator armour. He reached the city square and found his second-in-command, the Sorcerer Dulenti. Dulenti turned when he heard Sacanax coming and bowed.

"My Lord, the city is ours and by extension, so too is Agora. The Primarch would be pleased. Iron Within, Iron Without." Dulenti said, smiling. With his warp-twisted features, it was a grotesque sight.

"Your optimism sickens me, Sorcerer. Half of my Grand Company lies dead. I expected losses, but I also expected to win without the loyalists retreating." Savanax said.

"My dear Warsmith, a paltry loss. You know as well as I that all men under us are expendable and though the casualties were high, we still took this world with ease. We have succeeded in our goal, the planet is under our control. Two billion souls turned to chaos and in such a strategically critical location too, I might add. From here, we can launch strikes at several successors of the Ultramarines and those two billion would surely be able to provide recruits to replace our losses. Give it a century, no more, and I guarantee that your Grand Company will be as large as any space marine chapter. You need not worry, my friend." Dulenti assured him, giving that sickening smile.

"I do wish you would wear a helmet, Dulenti. Regardless, you speak truly. We will just have to remain here longer than intended to replace our losses. In the meantime, I imagine we can inform the Primarch of our success. I will leave this to you, Sorcerer. Make the arrangements." Savanax commanded. Dulenti bowed low.

"But of course, my lord... But before I do this, might I recommend a future action?" Dulenti asked.

"You may."

"The space marines on this world, I have not heard of them, though they intrigue me. None of our records say anything of this chapter, but they fought well. If we learned of them, we might strike them in the future. The Imperium would surely feel such a loss if we were to eliminate them or pray tell, even turn them to Chaos." Dulenti proposed.

"The Power Marines, I have heard some of the cultists say. Yes, they did fight well, but they are not a priority. If Perturabo commands it then we shall destroy them but if not, then it doesn't matter. Do as I commanded now, you have taken too much of my time."

"By your word, my lord." Dulenti said, smiling sweetly all the while.


	9. Chapter 9

**886.M41, Isphyda I**

Orion sat in his cell in the fortress-monastery of the Power Marines chapter. This small, empty chamber of rock served as his sleeping quarters and where he spent most of his free time. He sat cross-legged on the floor contemplating his life. As he sat, he was interrupted from his thoughts by a loud knock on the door.

"What?" He called irritably. The door slid open and a chapter serf entered, a slim girl of 10. The child looked nervous as she addressed Orion.

"Mi'lord, I've been instructed by your sergeant to come and get you. You see, it's time to recruit new aspirants and your squad..." She said, trailing off.

"Where is Crau?" Orion asked.

"In the armoury, lord." The girl said nervously.

"Thank you, that will be all." Orion said. He had no patience for the chapter serfs and only spoke to them when necessary. He rose to his feet as the girl ducked out of the room. He walked over to the door and closed it behind him as he headed for the armoury. When he arrived, he found Crau, Yariel and the rest of the tactical squad waiting for him.

"We're to take a transport and head for a nearby village." Crau explained. "One of us gets to fight a bunch of teenage boys. Sounds like good fun."

"I'll leave that to you, Crau. I imagine any who can overcome a face like yours is worthy of being an Astartes." Orion said, smirking. Crau winced, rubbing the steel plates that made up most of the left side of his face. It had been almost a decade and still Orion was unused to that red glass ball encased in steel where once a sparkling brown eye had been, let alone the metal replacing much of Crau's face.

"Given how some of the serfs look at me, I think you're right." He said unhappily. "Shall we go, brothers?"

* * *

**One Hour Later**

The stormraven transport touched down outside the village. When the ramp lowered and Orion exited the craft, several civilians were crowded around the transport. As the rest of the squad exited the aircraft, Orion looked at Crau.

"I'll let you take care of this." Crau said. "Since I'm the sergeant now, I get to do that."

"Whatever." Orion said, frowning as he looked at the civilians.

"We are the Adeptus Astartes of the Power Marines chapter. The time has come for us to recruit some of you into our ranks. All males between the age of twelve and fourteen are required to take part in the Challenge Trial." Orion declared. A collective murmur swept across the crowd. "Now would be preferable." He added irritably. The crowd cleared away, parents heading to their homes to fetch their sons and teenage boys headed to get their friends.

"We still haven't sorted out who's going to be fighting them. How the hell do they even do the Challenge Trial on this planet?" Yariel asked. "I'd heard that it's not the same as on Isphyda III."

"We take them into the forest, give them a machete and see who can sneak up on us." Orion told him. "Less noble than where we came from, but we don't get our recruits from this world for their honour."

"And if they stumble on feral orks while hiding in those forests?" Yariel said.

"Then we have no further need for their corpses. Orks don't stray this close to the Fortress-Monastery, Yariel." Orion pointed out. As they spoke, gradually aspirants began to approach them. Once the last arrived, a total of sixteen boys stood assembled. They all had machetes and some pieces of equipment for camouflage and forest-exploration.

"Come on, then." Crau called. "Let's go walking, you all know what you're supposed to do. Sneak up on this guy in the forest and draw blood, that's all you have to do." He told them, pointing at Orion. Orion noticed Crau's faint smile. Orion was the sharpest of the squad and the hardest to sneak up on. It was unlikely any of these recruits would get the drop on him but then, that wasn't what they looked for in the Challenge Trial. Aspirants weren't expected to succeed and were instead measured by the magnitude of their failure, as Orion remembered from when he took the Trial some forty-six years prior. The trial was different here, but it was the same principle.

The squad and the aspirants set off, headed for the lush green forest near the village. To get there, they trekked across sweeping green fields, the morning dew of the long grass coating their feet as they moved. After half an hour of walking, they came to the edge of the forest, gnarled old trees clustered densely ahead of them. The group stopped and looked at the forest.

"Well, off you go." Crau said when nobody started moving. The aspirants slowly headed into the forest and once they entered, it did not take long for them to disappear from view. There was a long silence before Orion spoke.

"When do I go in?" Orion asked.

"Give them a little while. We want thinks to be fair, those were our instructions. We lost a lot of marines on Agora, we need to replace them sooner rather than later." Crau told him.

"Right. Do I get any weaponry?"

"Fuck-all. You'll be fine, those little things the aspirants are carrying couldn't hurt a grot." Crau said, grinning. The grin was twisted as half of Crau's lips were burned and scarred from the hit he had taken at Hypatia. Since that day, Crau had started to shave his head as it no longer grew on the left side of his scalp and it looked very lopsided when almost half of his scalp was burned and partially metal while the other half had hair. Now, Crau's face was quite gaunt, his right cheek having hollowed out somewhat since the disfigurement. His left ear was completely gone now and had been replaced with a square steel receiver to serve the same function.

"I'm sure there are a handful of grots who thought that." Yariel said, smirking. "Green pricks are tiny." At this, Orion took a moment to examine the face of his other friend. It had been a long time since he had taken a good look at Yariel and now he took one. Sea-green eyes, pale skin, high-cheekbones and a hooked nose, a strong jaw and chin with close-cropped black hair. Orion looked away.

"How long is a little while?" Orion said, scratching his beard.

"Ten minutes. I thought you were meant to be the patient one, Orion." Crau said.

"Not patient when it comes to waiting for teenagers to hide in the woods." Orion responded.

"Deal with it, mate." Crau told him and that ended the conversation. After ten minutes, Orion stretched his arms.

"Alright, I'm going in." Orion said.

"Good luck to you." Crau told him. "Try not to kill the Aspirants."

"No promises. I feel like snapping a spine over my knee." Orion told him, setting off. He went into the trees and almost immediately the light dimmed to incredibly low levels, the dense undergrowth obscuring the sun's rays. Fortunately, his Occulobe implant compensated for the darkness and he saw as clearly as if in broad daylight. The aspirants had no such advantage and would have to strain their eyes to locate him. As he walked through the trees, taking care to not twist his ankle on a root or bang his head on a low-hanging branch, he heard a twig snapping behind him. He turned around and saw a young boy charging at him brandishing a machete. The boy yelled a wordless cry as he approached Orion recklessly. Orion did not move and watched with disapproval as the boy tripped over a tree root and landed flat on his face, shattering his nose and several teeth on another root.

"You failed. Go home." Orion said, turning around and continuing the way he had been going. He continued walking, heading around in circles and in random directions to try and find some more of the aspirants. A few more tried ambushing him. Some actually came close to succeeding, but he always saw them coming and always came out of the encounter without a scratch. As he sidestepped yet another surprise charge and kicked the feet out from under the aspirant, he picked up the boy by his shirt and lifted him up to eye level.

"With tactics like that, you're suitable for the Imperial Guard, not the Adeptus Astartes. Charging blindly at an enemy your weapon isn't going to do anything is the way of the Guard, not the Space Marines. Get lost, kid." Orion said to this boy and threw him away, ignoring the sickening crunch as the boy landed on his back on a root. He took a step and then his shoulder exploded with pain as a red beam from the trees shot through his right shoulder. He gasped in pain and looked up, seeing a small boy hanging from the branches by his feet and one hand while he held a laspistol in his left hand. From the barrel, smoke unfurled.

"Did that count as a pass?" The boy called, waving the gun around to dispel the smoke.

"Where did you get a fucking laspistol?" Orion demanded, rubbing the wound in his shoulder.

"I smuggled it in my camo kit." The boy responded.

"That's cheating!" Orion said.

"It's only cheating if you get caught. I didn't, I shot you."

"Again, where did you even get that?"

"I like guns. My dad has a lot. I swiped it before the trial." The boy responded, beginning to climb down the tree. Orion scowled as scar tissue began to form around his wound, but then he chuckled. This boy had one thing the rest lacked, that was for certain: ingenuity.

"What's your name, boy?" Orion asked.

"Tragun. Tragun Vorlornce. Yourself?" He replied.

"That's not... Orion. I'm Orion. You pass, go back to the squad outside the forest." Orion said. Tragun nodded and carefully began picking his way through the forest. Orion chuckled as the boy disappeared from view and kept walking.

* * *

**Two Weeks Later**

After the Challenge Trial, only Tragun had passed. He and a few hundred other boys from around the planet were gathered up and were made to do the next trial: the Hunting Trial. Each one was given some weapons and sent into forests across the world where feral Orks had been sighted and tasked with bringing back an Ork head to the waiting Space Marines. At the same time, the trials on other planets took place. After the aspirants were all gathered and performing their respective trials, the Hunting Trial was complete, with a dozen boys returning with Ork heads, Tragun among them. Thirty returned empty-handed and the rest did not return.

Once again, Orion sat in his cell in the Fortress-Monastery, this time pondering the trials. At this stage, only the Exposure Trial on Isphyda III was still taking place. He recalled his own experience with the Exposure Trial, the blistering heat, the thirst, the fear of snakes and other animals at every turn. It was a dangerous trial, one of the most dangerous that recruits for the Power Marines were made to take, with only the Hunting Trial on Isphyda I having a higher death-toll. He felt sympathy for the poor souls out in the desert, but he was glad that he had undertaken the trial long ago and would never have to return to that barren landscape.

Then, his thoughts wandered to recent reports. In the space around Agora, several worlds had gone dark and the Imperial ships sent to investigate had never returned to their dispatch points. Agora was not terribly close to Isphyda, but it was close enough to cause worry in the Power Marines chapter and he had heard many of his brothers discussing it in hushed tones over the past few months. Orion sighed and rose to his feet. It was time to leave his thoughts behind. He left his chambers and headed for the practice cages, deep within the bowels of the fortress-monastery. When he reached the cages, he found many battle-brothers sparring with one-another or with practice servitors. Not far in the massive room, Yariel stood in a cage, dueling with a servitor with a gladius. Orion watched the duel with interest.

Yariel took a step forward and thrust his gladius at the servitor's torso, the servitor parried with its own gladius. Yariel withdrew as the servitor counterattacked and parried the strike. He took another step forward and hacked at the servitor's side. As the servitor moved its sword to parry, Yariel withdrew the blade and swung it at the servitor's upper body. Orion applauded and Yariel jumped, looking at Orion and forgetting about his swing, accidentally beheading the servitor. Yariel cursed as the servitor crumpled to the ground and its head rolled around on the floor of the cage. The blank eyes stared at Orion and Yariel as if to try and make them feel guilty as a pool of blood collected around the severed head.

"Thanks for that, Orion." Yariel said. "The techmarine is going to go to Crau about that. Crau's going to be fucking pissed."

"It's just a servitor, they're not hard to come by." Orion said, entering the practice cage. Orion picked up the servitor's sword. "Shall we?" He asked.

"Sure, since you made me kill my partner." Yariel said, kicking the headless corpse to the side and nudging the head with his foot, sending it rolling after the body.

"You must not have been focusing very much if applause made you lose your focus and cut his head off." Orion pointed out.

"Piss off. There's a lot to take my mind away from a fight." Yariel told him. "With the trials, for example."

"Sure. Try not to cut my head off." Orion responded. He took the gladius in both hands and slowly approached Yariel. Yariel took a defensive stance, his own gladius thrust ahead of him and the blade making his chest appear like a cross from Orion's perspective. Orion jabbed at Yariel, who took a step back. Orion darted backwards and then shot forwards again, slashing at Yariel's leg. Yariel parried and thrust the point of his sword at Orion's gut. Orion sidestepped and slashed his sword across Yariel's back, cutting through his robes and opening a thin line across Yariel's back, the skin parting like thin lips as bright red blood seeped out. Yariel cursed and stumbled. He regained his balance after a moment and the blood clotted, scar tissue beginning to form at the site of the wound.

"You're very distracted." Orion pointed out. "You've usually caused me the injury by this stage." He said. Yariel nodded. "I'm the better fighter, yes. But that doesn't matter, I was distracted. I'd be dead if it were a real fight. Let's try again." Yariel told him. Orion nodded and they were at it again.

This time Yariel won quickly, thrusting at Orion's leg and grazing it before Orion could do anything more than move to the side a little. They waited for the wound to heal and then sparred a third time, Yariel winning after exchanging blows a couple times and then a fourth spar, which Orion won when Yariel forgot about the dead servitor, backing into the pool of blood where the head had been earlier and slipping, allowing Orion a chance to strike him.

They kept sparring for two hours before eventually giving up, both dripping with sweat. They had a roughly even number of victories, which was rather unusual. As they exited the cage, they walked together through the halls of the fortress-monastery, discussing recent events.

* * *

**Three Weeks Later**

Orion stood with Crau, Yariel and the rest of their tactical squad, all in full armour with weaponry and standing in perfect formation. Alongside them, the entirety of the 2nd company stood assembled in armour and in formation. In front of them stood a mass of teenage boys from all across the Isphyda System. Just under three hundred in number, they all looked tired and scared. They had just finished the third trial, the Knowledge of Self Trial, where the chapter's librarians gazed into their minds and judged their purity whilst planting nightmarish images in there to test their resolve. Many had been driven mad.

But now, these few hundred had passed. It was the greatest number of aspirants to pass all three trials since the very first group, over a hundred years ago. Now, they stood. Orion noticed Tragun near the front and smiled behind his helmet. Then, Captain Anatoly removed his helmet and addressed the crowd.

"You few hundred have passed the trials. Soon, you will begin your training to become space marines. Your bodies will be conditioned, you will be fed a strict diet and gradually over the next few years, your gene-seed will be implanted. Many of you will die. But those who survive will be space marines and will do the chapter proud. Chapter Master Maximilian is on his way here now to congratulate you all." Anatoly declared.

"Orion," Yariel said privately to Orion through the vox. "I thought the chapter master was off in another system, fighting?"

"The strike force returned twenty minutes ago. They're coming to the surface n-" As Orion spoke, the doors that led into the massive hall in which they all stood burst open. A space marine wearing a white helmet and bearing the markings of the 1st company stormed in. Orion examined it and realized that the armour belonged to Ivan. His eyes widened.

"What is it, brother?" Anatoly asked impatiently. Ivan removed his helmet. His face looked gaunt and tired.

"Maximilian is dead." Ivan said flatly. He was not loud, but his voice carried and there was silence.

"What?" Anatoly demanded. "What do you mean, your force just returned, did it not?" Anatoly demanded.

"We couldn't get the message sooner, our vox was destroyed. On Zevis, we fought Eldar. They butchered us. Maximilian was killed and we were forced to retreat." Ivan said. Anatoly cursed and then looked at the confused aspirants.

"Out! All of you! Go and see Captain Mogue, just get out!" Anatoly roared. There was mass confusion but the aspirants began to stream out of the hall. "Ivan, I want to talk to you about this. Come with me. Brothers, you are dismissed." Anatoly said. The marines waited for the aspirants to all leave before breaking ranks.

Orion left the hall, confused. He made for the armoury to get his armour removed and Yariel followed him.

"What do you think will happen now?" Yariel asked. Orion shrugged.

"We won't be going to war any time soon. I imagine Captain Ruwan will be the new chapter master." Orion said. "We knew this would happen at some time. Even if we accumulated enough high-ranking Astartes to replace the Ultramarines who made up our initial commanders, I don't think Maximilian could have gone from being a chapter master for centuries back to a first company veteran of the Ultramarines. He was going to stay until his death, one way or another. Now it's happened. That's the last of the Ultramarines in our chapter." Orion told him.

"Who cares? He was still our leader and we're Ultramarine successors. Maximilian will be missed." Yariel pointed out.

"It doesn't matter. Let's just get our armour off." Orion said. As he said this, they reached the armour and found that there were dozens of 2nd company space marines who had had the same idea.

"Damn. Always a line." Yariel said. Orion spared him a glance and shrugged.

"Could be worse. I've heard tales that some orders of the Sororitas maintain discipline in their ranks by only having one toilet. Besides, you know what Anatoly always says." Orion told him.

"Yes, yes. Standing around in full armour doing nothing builds character. We've been space marines for decades, I don't think we need to build any more." Yariel complained.

* * *

**952.M41, battle barge _Armageddon_**

Orion sat in the armoury of the _Armageddon_ with Yariel and Crau, talking. Many years had passed since Maximilian's death. Since then, Chapter Master Ruwan had also died in battle and for the last ten years, Ivan had been the chapter master. Crau was now captain of the 1st company, Yariel was captain of the 2nd and Orion had returned to the 10th company to help oversee the training of Initiates. It was said that upon the death of Captain Mogue, Orion would succeed him ahead of sergeant Valion of the command squad. Now, they sat talking about the war to come as the ship sped through the Warp for their destination, the Vypris system. They had received an urgent distress signal from this system after conquering a world held by Orks, requesting aid from Eldar attackers before the system went dark. Now, the Power Marines sped for the Vypris system at top speed through the Immaterium.

As they spoke, their vox receivers activated as they received a message from the Bridge.

_"Brothers, we are coming out of the Warp now in orbit of Vypris III, please prepare for battle." _The voice of Ivan said. Crau stood and sighed.

"Yariel, we'd better head for the Bridge before we come out of the Warp. Orion, you should prepare the Initiates." Crau said. Orion nodded and stood.

"Try and stop Ivan from starting the fighting before I can join." Orion said. Crau chuckled.

"You know Ivan. No promises." Crau said. "Yariel, let's go."

"Right, brother." Yariel said. The two captains strode out of the armoury and Orion walked over and grabbed a sniper rifle. He slung it over his shoulder and left the armoury, heading for the Practice Cages where he knew that many of the scout marines who were aboard would be.

* * *

**Author's Note:  
****Hey, everybody, here's the latest chapter. No big action scenes like the last two, sorry, but chapter 10 is going to be a fucking huge one with multiple big fights, so that's something to look forward to. Chapter 10 is also going to feature a couple tie-ins to stuff that is completely unrelated to this story so sorry if you have no idea what the fuck some of it is all about. More details about what I'm tying into in the AN of the next chapter. **

**Also, sorry for going back to the boring Trials again, I know nobody liked those and they took up too much time earlier in the story, but I needed to introduce a character who's going to be somewhat important later on. I promise that I'm never revisiting the trials again.**

**Be sure to leave a review, thanks for reading.  
**


	10. Chapter 10

The _Armageddon _burst from the Warp like a bullet from a rifle. It shot through the void over Vypris momentarily before slowing, trailing purple wisps of energy and smoke behind it. Soon, the _Armageddon_ slowed to a halt. It was not alone in space, however. The huge black battle-barge hung in orbit behind another, smaller ship, a space marine strike cruiser with a silver hull. Like all Imperial vessels, gothic towers and statues of the God-Emperor adorned its hull but alongside these were statues of beasts, creatures and faceless men from some alien world. On the hull of this ship alongside a lance battery was an icon, a bone-white talon splattered with gore.

The two ships, battle barge and strike cruiser, hung in orbit alongside one-another, guns ready.

* * *

Crau stood on the bridge of the _Armageddon _alongside Yariel and Ivan. Ivan looked at the serfs manning the communications of the ship and frowned.

"Get me in contact with that ship there." Ivan commanded. The serfs began working and Ivan turned his head to another serf passing by. "Search the records, I want to know what chapter those space marines belong to." The serf nodded and rushed away.

"Do we not know already?" Yariel asked.

"We don't." Crau answered for Ivan. "Silver livery, a bone-white bloody talon as the heraldry. No famous chapters bear those markings."

"I wonder what they're called..." Yariel murmured.

"We'll find out soon enough, the vox is starting to work." Ivan said.

_"Greetings, unknown Astartes. I am Captain Agiel of the Bloody Talons' fifth company. Our ship is known as the _Viscera_ and we hail from the Ceror system in the sub-sector Grael. It is located within this sector. Now that I have introduced myself, I would like you to show me the same courtesy."_ A voice said over the vox.

"I am Chapter Master Ivan of the Power Marines chapter. I have with me our 2nd company and men from our 1st, 8th and 10th companies, aboard the battle-barge _Armageddon_. We come from the Isphyda system in sub-sector Reah of the Lithesh sector. What is your business here?" Ivan replied. Crau glanced at the chapter-master. Ivan's face betrayed no emotion.

_"Lithesh sector, is it? You're rather close to the Tau Empire, did you participate in the Damocles Gulf Crusade a couple centuries back?"_ The voice of Agiel replied.

"Our chapter did not exist then. Please answer my question." Ivan replied.

_"Ah, a 26th Founding chapter. So rare, to find them in action, though I've heard more and more about them recently. As for your question, our business here is responding to a distress call. We came and found no Eldar, only reports from the civilians of mysterious Eldar raiders with spikes on their armour who came every day to steal the populace." _Agiel said.

"Sounds more like Dark Eldar than the Craftworlders." Ivan commented.

_"That they do. Raids are carried out daily and we're always too late to save anybody, though we find the occasional corpse. We've been trying to find a ship, the raids have to be coming from somewhere, but unfortunately they seem to be cloaked, hidden from our sensors."_ Agiel explained. _"We have placed beacons around every population center yet by the time the sensors on them detect a raid it's too late. Steel Rain is difficult to carry out when the enemy has vanished before we can launch drop pods."_

"I imagine it is, captain. I should like to meet you in person. Our enemy may be listening in and I'd hate for them to be aware of our plans." Ivan said.

_"Very well. We can meet on the surface in an hour. I'll send co-ordinates. I will see you soon, chapter-master."_ Agiel replied. The line cut off.

"Crau, Yariel, I want you two with me. Go and get some veterans to guard us in case things go awry." Ivan instructed. Crau nodded.

"I'll have some terminators on standby to teleport down and two squads of sternguard veterans to accompany us." Crau said.

"Good. Make the arrangements and then meet me in the hangar. Yariel, come with me." Ivan said. Yariel nodded. "Send those co-ordinates to whichever pilot takes us down to the surface!" Ivan commanded the serfs as he and Yariel departed. Crau remained for a moment, examining the bridge. Finally, he turned and walked out, voxing some of the men in his company with their orders.

* * *

**One Hour Later  
**

Crau, Yariel and Ivan stood facing the Bloody Talons, Ivan flanked by the two captains. Behind them, two squads of sternguard veterans stood at attention, jewellery and other things that hung from their armour swaying in the wind. In front of them, a captain in silver armour with black pauldrons and the bloody talon on one. Beside him stood a chaplain clad entirely in black and a space marine sergeant. Two squads of assault marines stood behind the Bloody Talons.

"It's good to see you in person, chapter master. This is Barachiel and sergeant Zargos." Agiel said. The chaplain nodded at Ivan, his skull helm betraying no emotion.

"This is captain Crau and captain Yariel, 1st and 2nd companies. So, you said that the Dark Eldar carried out daily raids on the civilian populace?" Ivan asked. Agiel nodded.

"According to the people remaining, they've been doing this for nearly a month and half the population is either dead or taken captive." Agiel said. Ivan stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"You said over the vox that you were attempting to defend the civilians using Steel Rain?" Ivan asked.

"Yes. Beacons, multiple simultaneous devastating defensive deep strikes, the works." Agiel said. "But as I said, it's not been working because they're gone by the time the beacons detect them." He explained.

"And in all this time, you didn't think of any other ideas? If Steel Rain isn't working, it's time for a change of tactics." Ivan said. "Surely you've taken some time to examine the Codex Astartes for more solutions, I'm sure Guilliman encountered similar problems at some point before writing it."

"None of what we have been able to find has any solutions. The Codex is a rather large tome, you must remember." Agiel replied. "We've not had time to examine it closely."

"Well, it doesn't matter. I'll take charge, we should get word to the planetary governor to group the entire population into one place." Ivan said.

"Do not presume to commandeer our company." The chaplain, Barachiel, growled. "We will fight beside you but we will not bow down to your whims."

"Peace, Barachiel. The good chapter master simply meant to take command of the defense of the population." Agiel said, patting the chaplain on the shoulder. "Please explain why we would gather the populace into one area?" Agiel asked.

"To lure the Dark Eldar. Station a few space marines there and rely on them instead of beacons which can be fooled. With any luck, all of them being in one place might make the Dark Eldar hit with an especially large force, which we can take advantage of to drop on them." Ivan explained. "I imagine the men standing here now will be adequate to defend everybody before the drop pods come down. I'm not acquainted with the planetary governor, please relay my instructions to him."

"But of course. Zargos, make the arrangements. Ivan, was it? Come, we have much to discuss." Agiel said, beckoning Ivan to approach while the sergeant strode off briskly. Ivan stepped forward and looked at Crau and Yariel.

"Inform your men what is to be done." Ivan commanded. Crau nodded and he heard Yariel voice an affirmation. Ivan, Agiel and the chaplain Barachiel walked off, speaking in hushed tones.

* * *

**Two Days Later  
**

In the time it had taken to move what remained of the entire planet's population into one location despite the protests of the governor, half a dozen Dark Eldar raids had been carried out on the convoys as they moved. But now, millions of humans sat in an enormous camp tucked away in a valley, waiting for another attack. An atmosphere of dread hung over the many people gathered and Crau did not like it. He sat on a boulder overlooking a large group of elderly men as they discussed in hushed tones the current situation. They occasionally shot Crau furtive glances as if they expected him to warp into one of the raiders that had been causing so much misery. Crau scowled and slid off the boulder, landing gracefully on his feet and striding off.

"Yariel." He said into the vox. "The waiting is worse than a fight itself. Where the fuck are they?" Crau asked.

"I don't know. But regardless, it doesn't matter. They'll attack soon enough and if not, then it probably means they've packed up and left." Yariel said. Crau scoffed.

"I doubt it. It wouldn't surprise me if they had no intention of leaving until they'd scoured the planet of every human and enslaved them all." Crau said.

"Maybe. We'll see." Yariel responded. Crau frowned and said nothing. After a while, a thought crossed his mind.

"Maybe they have been raiding. Quite a lot of the population refused to leave their homes, it's possible the xenos are attacking them right now." Crau pointed out.

"If they were stupid enough to stay in an undefended, vulnerable position with xenos slavers on the loose, they deserve whatever they get." Yariel said. Crau was somewhat taken aback by this, but had little time to process when all of a sudden the sky above darkened and screams of terror were accompanied by battlecries and weapons firing. Crau looked up to see a sleek, bat-like aircraft zooming overhead, armed to the teeth and dispensing death and agony onto the civilians. Dozens of these filled the air and hundreds of sleek, spiked jetbikes plummeted down from the heavens, firing indiscriminately as their riders cackled and slaughtered. More vehicles and raiders appeared seemingly from nowhere and screams filled the air. Crau drew his power sword and bisected one of the Dark Eldar as it rode by on its jetbike, the torso thudding to the ground while the waist-down remained on the jetbike and crashed into the ground. He sprinted to the still-alive raider on the ground and drove his sword through the raider's skull.

"LAUNCH DROP PODS!" Crau roared into the vox as more and more Dark Eldar vehicles emerged from nowhere to dispense death onto the civilians. They ignored Crau for the most part, zooming by him to butcher the innocents. Crau screamed in anger as he swung his sword at another passing jetbike and cut through thin air. Crau drew his bolt pistol and shot a round through the head of a jetbiker, the bolt detonating and causing the Dark Eldar's head to explode in a shower of gore. Many bolter rounds began to rocket through the air at some of the Dark Eldar as the sternguard veterans started to open fire. As this happened, a slim, dark transport shot through the air in front of Crau and half a dozen scantily clad alien women leaped gracefully from it. Their skin was extraordinarily pale and was utterly flawless, smooth, not a scratch. They wore precious little armour, only the groin, nipples and feet were covered and they each carried cruel, jagged weapons. Three of them carried dual daggers, the jagged, curved blades gleaming and covered in a dark green substance. One carried a dark pistol and a long, curved sword with hooks, one carried a sword and a net with several blades attached. The final woman wielded a long whip with dozens of cruel, hooked blades hanging off its length. Many chains ending in hooks and spikes hung from their lithe frames and the occasional severed limb or skull hung off these chains. The one with the whip had a half-rotted human head swinging from a chain over her crotch. Crau discarded his pistol as they approached swiftly, taking his sword in two hands. He bellowed a battlecry as he charged at them.

The whip lashed out, curling around his leg while the blades cut into his power armour, raking the ceramite and carving deep gashes as the Dark Eldar woman attempted to trip him. She was unsuccessful but he stumbled and was distracted as he tried to untangle himself and the net was thrown over him, cutting into his breastplate and pauldrons. He yelled out in anger as he tried to cut himself free and as he wildly flailed with his power sword, one of the wyches with two daggers approached and stabbed them both through his chest eagle. They punched through his armour with consummate ease and although they did not penetrate deeply, agony shot through Crau's chest and blood flowed from the punctures as she withdrew her daggers and leaped backwards, cackling with glee and licking his blood off one of her blades. The two with swords approached swiftly as he continued to struggle. One slashed him across the thigh and another stabbed him through the gut while the one with the whip lashed it against Crau's chest, cutting into his armour and catching. The wych desperately tried to pull it free but Crau saw an opportunity and took it. He staggered backwards, dragging her with him and sending her face-first into the ground. He lurched forward and tripped, landing on top of the wych with a resounding crash. Her back was directly underneath his breasplate and he heard a sickening crack as he landed, ceasing her struggles. He rolled over as the wyches continued to leave light cuts in him, ignoring the agony coursing through his body and tugging the whip free of his chest. It cut through his gauntlet but he ignored the pain, taking his sword and finally managing to slash through the net. He rose awkwardly to his feet as the wyches gathered around him uncertainly. He bled from dozens of cuts and stabs though they were gradually beginning to heal. Though slower than usual, his Larraman's organ was doing its job.

The wych with the pistol and sword leaped forward and was beheaded for her troubles. Her headless corpse slapped against Crau, the momentum not killed, but bones broke and the corpse slumped off of him and hit the ground, following the head. The other four shrieked in anger and all attacked at once. The one with the sword attacked from the front and Crau locked his blade with hers. From behind, a wych leaped onto his back and wrapped her legs around his torso, keeping a grip on him while she drove her daggers repeatedly into his shoulders. But to no avail, for space marine shoulders are among the most heavily armoured part of their bodies and the daggers did not penetrate deep enough to even break the skin. A wych attacked from the side, stabbing him in the side of the gut with her daggers while the third slashed through the armour on his left arm, cutting deeply into his forearm. He gritted his teeth as he disengaged with his power sword and stomped on the foot of the wych with the sword. The extremity shattered underneath his boot and she screamed in pain and was sounded suspiciously like pleasure. But she did not get to enjoy it long enough as Crau ran her through with his power sword. The two wyches disengaged while the one on his back continued trying to stab Crau to death via the shoulders. He grunted as he reached overhead and grabbed her by the throat, crushing her frail neck in his armoured fingers and dragging her off him as her legs slackened. He slammed her into the ground and then stomped on her jaw, shattering her skull and coating his foot with gore for good measure. The final two watches stared nervously at him, awaiting his next move.

But now, the pain was too great. He had far too many wounds to continue standing as poison coursed through his veins and as he blindly stumbled for one of the wyches, he felt himself slowing incredibly.

"For the Emperor..." He grunted as he crashed to the ground a meter from one of the wyches. He looked up at the terrified xenos as she crouched down and snarled at him, raking her knives against each-other before raising them into the air, preparing to bring them down into Crau's head. As this happened, the massacre continued to occur with little resistance around them before a screaming filled the air. Not a human, but the shrieking of engines and the explosion of something breaking the sound barrier as it plummeted to the ground. A drop pod slammed down a dozen meters from Crau, sending the wych to the ground unceremoniously, face in the dirt and her rear end in the air. She rolled over and groaned, rising to her feet to observe this new threat. As this happened, dozens more drop pods slammed into the ground all around, some black, some silver. The one that had sent the wych to the ground hissed as its doors unlocked and slammed to the ground. The wych turned and started to run as a squad of space marines stormed out of the pod, their jet black armour imposing menacing figures into Crau's vision as they opened fire, tearing the wych to pieces. Crau heard the other one die as well, no doubt gunned down with just as little mercy as the one who had come so close to ending his life. He could barely make out the sounds of more gunfire and screams and he could hardly see through his blurring vision more and more space marines emerging, tearing the Dark Eldar raiders asunder and turning the butchers into the butchered. He gave off a faint smile as he lost consciousness.

* * *

It had been a day since the battle on the surface of Vypris. The Dark Eldar had been decimated, with few managing to escape the wrath of the Astartes. A dozen Power Marines and five Bloody Talons had been slain whilst countless civilians had been brutally cut down before salvation had arrived. Crau had been found after the battle in a catatonic state, so much xenos poison in his system that his sus-an membrane had triggered and forced him into a state of suspended animation to keep him alive. He had been recovered and taken to the _Armageddon_ where Apothecaries were now in the process of purging the poison from him so that they could undergo the procedures to awaken him from his stupor.

Thirty hours later, the Dark Eldar ship had been discovered hiding behind the second moon of Vypris. It was blown to pieces before it could escape and now the Space Marines remained only to oversee the return of the civilian population to their homes.

* * *

Agiel stood on a hill overlooking the mass of men, women and children flocking to the transports that would ferry them back to their homes. For many, life would never be the same with so many of their friends and family dead and missing, but at least it would continue. He heard heavy footsteps and glanced to the side, noticing Captain Yariel from the Power Marines.

"Good day, captain." Agiel said.

"Hey, mate. That's the last of them, I think." Yariel commented. Agiel nodded.

"Our work here is done, it seems." Agiel mused. "I never asked, but what brought your brothers so far from your home?" He asked. Yariel shrugged.

"We'd heard of the war on Armageddon, thought we'd come to help out. By the time we arrived though, the war had been over for a couple years. We were going to pack up and head home, but then we received word that one of Ghazghkull's chieftains, an Ork by the name of Grimblitz Toe-Stompah, had splintered from the main Waaagh! and was causing trouble for the sector." Yariel explained.

"I see. Did you kill the beast?" He asked.

"Nah, but we got a lot of his army. He won't be causing any trouble any time soon, I'd say." Yariel responded. "Once we'd sent him and the ten thousand or so Orks left under him packing, we got the distress signal from Vypris' planetary governor and came as fast as we could."

"Well, it's a good thing you came when you did. I imagine the xenos were on the verge of leaving." Agiel said.

"Probably. So, your company's gonna head back to Ceror?" Yariel asked. Agiel nodded.

"Chapter Master Hellsing gave us strict orders, return the moment we had finished with the Dark Eldar. Our absence has already been noticed, I imagine." He said.

"Fair enough. Isphyda's so far away, it wouldn't matter if we stayed behind for a while to make sure things were running smoothly." Yariel said, chuckling. Agiel did not find this amusing.

"Of course. If you'll excuse me, I should be with my brothers." Agiel said. Yariel nodded and stood, watching the civilians while Agiel walked off.

* * *

Agiel stood with his company as the thunderhawks returned from the settlements. As one of them touched down, a space marine exited the ramp and Agiel's eyes widened. It was a space marine who had gone missing a week prior, having been separated from his squad when hunting for the Dark Eldar that had emptied a village of its occupants.

"Brother Iaoth!" Agiel said. "We'd thought you dead." He said. Iaoth looked at him and Agiel received a private vox feed from him. He frowned, but blink-clicked the icon on his HUD to accept.

"Captain, I have important news to deliver. Something I saw when I was away from the company. I cannot speak it in front of our brothers. Once we are back aboard the _Viscera_, I would like to speak privately with you." Iaoth said. Something seemed... Off to Agiel. About the way Iaoth spoke, how he sounded and how he carried himself. He could not quite pinpoint what it was, but he did not like it.

"Of course. Meet me in my quarters once we are aboard the _Viscera_." Agiel said.

"Thank you, captain." Iaoth said. He then walked off to join his squad. Agiel frowned, trying to figure out what seemed so off as he boarded a thunderhawk. Thirty other Bloody Talons also boarded the thunderhawk while the other transports were filled up with the remainder of the company and once the entire company was embarked, the transports took off as one, flying up through the atmosphere.

* * *

Agiel strode through the corridors aboard the _Viscera_ at a brisk pace. When he reached the door to his quarters, he entered. Brother Iaoth was not there yet and so he removed his helmet. He placed it on the table by the left wall and sat down on his stone bed, removing his armour piece by piece and laying each piece by the wall. Eventually, he was clad only in a loincloth and he retrieved his robes from the simple wooden chest at the foot of his bed. He pulled the robes on and then sat in quiet contemplation as he awaited brother Iaoth.

After a few minutes, he heard a sharp knock on his door. He rose to his feet and walked over to the door, pressing the keypad by it and allowing the steel door to hiss open. There stood Iaoth, still clad in full armour. The silver battleplate made the space marine tower over Agiel by a foot and he frowned. The power armour was completely spotless, not a speck of dust anywhere on it, not a scratch in sight. That was not like Iaoth, from what his squad told Agiel from time to time. Usually, Iaoth would only clean his armour when sergeant Ikor ordered him to. What was stranger though, was that Iaoth was still wearing his armour despite the fact that they would soon be in the Warp for however long it took to return to Ceror. And stranger was that Iaoth simply stood there in silence, staring down at Agiel.

"Why are you still in your armour?" Agiel asked. No response. He frowned and stepped aside to allow Iaoth entry. The space marine remained unmoving for a moment before he walked into the chamber. The door slid closed behind him.

"What did you want to speak about?" Agiel asked. No response. Iaoth turned on the spot and stared at him. Agiel shifted uncomfortably on his feet, putting his weight onto his left foot. "Did something happen while you were down there?" He asked. "Answer me, br-" He began before Iaoth suddenly drew his combat knife and stepped forward, slashing Agiel's throat in one fluid motion. Agiel's eyes widened in shock as blood spurted from his throat. He frantically moved his hands up to the wound, trying to hold the blood in but to no avail as the bright red fluid flowed freely over his fingers. He fell to his knees. The blood-flow slowed, the Larraman's Organ did that much, but not enough. He felt the life draining out of him and his vision began to darken.

"Apologies, captain." Came a deep voice, distorted by the vox. Iaoth sheathed his knife and placed his hands on his helmet. "But you are not needed in my plans." He explained. "You may feel a little cold and... Dead, quite soon, I'm afraid. Nothing personal."

"Why?" Agiel managed to mouth. No sound came out, only blood, but the motion of his lips was enough.

"Why? Well, you see, I'm not Iaoth." He explained, removing his helmet. Agiel saw a face, an old face, far older than Iaoth and not as pale as a Bloody Talon. His mouth was open in a wicked grin and Agiel noticed that his canine teeth were not slightly elongated like a Bloody Talon space marine.

The man's eyes were piercing and intense as they seemed to stare into a Agiel's soul, a sorrowful expression slowly creeping into his features as he did so.  
"My name is Zalheim Von Himmel, of the Black Legion. I wanted you to know before you die, Captain, that I gain no satisfaction from this." Agiel sank to his knees and his vision began to darken, but he still saw Zalheim lower himself to a squat so he could remain in sight.

"I wish it could be different. I wish you could have opened your eyes and seen the truth as I have." Zalheim words were starting to sound far away, as if he were underwater, right before Agiel finally collapsed face first on the floor. "At last, you are free." Were the last words Agiel ever heard.

* * *

An hour later, the engines of the _Viscera_ went into overdrive as purple energy began crackling around it. A large, purple hole in space began to form and when it was large enough, purple energy and smoke coming from it and connecting with the _Viscera_, the craft shot into it. The hole closed up and all was normal. The _Armageddon _remained in orbit of Vypris, not noticing the body that had come out of the _Viscera's _airlock before it departed. Also unknown to the Power Marines were fifteen ships hiding on the other side of the system in orbit of a gas giant, concealed within its rings. The ships were of varying size and make, all coloured black and in the center was an apocalypse class battleship.

"The Bloody Talons have left, Lord Drakaal." Kynaer the sorcerer commented. Drakaal the Devourer of the Black Legion looked irritably at Kynaer. The sorcerer was short for a space marine, his decayed armour only barely putting him at normal Astartes height. The dark green Power Armour was riddled with holes, rot, flesh, 'gifts' from the Warp and various other things Drakaal did not wish to dwell on the details of.

"I had noticed that myself, thank you." Drakaal said irritably. "I have eyes with which to look at the sensors too." At this, Kynaer chuckled. It was a slow, painful, wheezing chuckle, phlegm in the sorcerer's throat. Halfway through the laugh he started coughing uncontrollably. He gave a loud, wet cough to end the bombardment of noise before snorting. Drakaal winced behind his winged helmet, looking away from the Nurglite sorcerer.

"Lord Drakaal, I was merely making an observation. I also observe that the..." He paused to snort some more of his phlegm and Drakaal scowled. "The Power Marines are still here.

"Yes, they are." Drakaal said. "They haven't noticed us."

"Yes, but we don't know how long they shall remain and if they are still here when Zalheim gives the signal, things could go awry quite quickly." Kynaer pointed out. Saying two q's in such quick succession dislodged some of the phlegm in his throat and he launched into another coughing fit. It was at this point that Drakaal wondered why he had accepted the offer of this Death Guard sorcerer before departing from the Eye of Terror. When the coughing ceased, Drakaal spoke.

"I suppose you're right. What do you propose we do?" Drakaal asked. Kynaer shrugged. The movement was slow and sluggish. It irritated Drakaal.

"I suggest we attack. We cannot risk their presence when we head for sub-sector Grael, it would be detrimental." Kynaer said.

"_Your_ presence is detrimental, Kynaer. I haven't thrown you out the airlock yet." Drakaal snarled impatiently. Kynaer began to laugh again, wheezing and coughing as he did so.

"If you think so," Kynaer began before breaking down in a fit of laughter, coughing and wheezing. He steadied himself and snorted. Whether it was with laughter or simply because of the excess phlegm, Drakaal did not know, nor did he wish to know. "Send me and my plague marines in a boarding pod, kill two Nurglings with one stone!" Kynaer said, chuckling. Drakaal remained silent for a moment, seething with fury as the coughing began anew.

"Don't they have cough drops in your part of the Eye?" Drakaal muttered. "I've had a brilliant idea."

"Yes?" Kynaer asked.

"I'll send you and all your plague marines to board them. If you conquer the ship, you stay there. If not, you die and we'll chase the ship out of the system. It's a win-win." Drakaal said. Kynaer slapped his hand across his chest indignantly.

"Don't you think I may object to being used so callously as canon-fodder?" Kynaer asked.

"The thought had crossed my mind." Drakaal said.

"Well, I don't mean to die pointlessly because-" At this, Kynaer broke down laughing. For once, this laughter was not accompanied by coughs or wheezes. "I almost did it! I almost got through it with a straight face!"

"You'll do it. Whether or not you want to." Drakaal commanded.. Kynaer nodded.

"Father Nurgle teaches his children that death is inevitable and we should be happy to embrace it when it comes. It's cruel, but he loves all his children so it's all alright in the end. I've had Nurgle's Rot for so long, I bet I'll become a Herald when I go!" Kynaer said, wheezing with laughter.

"Get off my bridge." Drakaal said. Kynaer nodded, waving his left hand dismissively as he wheezed and laughed and coughed and snorted. He shambled off the bridge. A few minutes after he was gone, Drakaal noticed a foul smell and noticed the pungent green ooze on the floor where Kynaer had been standing. He scowled.

"Clean that up." He ordered a passing slave. The slave's eyes widened in horror. "I don't care if you catch every disease the Plaguefather ever dreamed of, get that stuff off of my bridge." Drakaal demanded. The slave rushed off, presumably to retrieve a mop.

* * *

Crau awoke all of a sudden, his vision blurred to the point that all he saw was bright light and the odd abstract shape. He did not know where he was and the last he remembered, a Dark Eldar wych had been shot dead. He felt that he was lying on a bed and he rolled off it, slamming into the ground. He heard muffled, distorted voices and a ringing in his ears. He retched, gagging and coughing on the ground. He rose blindly to his feet when this stopped and his vision began to clear. He could make out vague shapes and noticed that he was not alone. He raised his fists clumsily and mumbled something that not even he could comprehend. A voice tried speaking to him, but he could not understand it and so staggered forward, swinging his fist clumsily before he crashed to the ground. He groaned and rolled onto his back, covering his face with his hands. He shut his eyes tight and waited. Gradually, the ringing in his ears faded and he could make out words.

"Brother Crau?" Came an uncertain voice. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes." Crau groaned. He moved his hands to his sides and opened his eyes. Gradually, everything came into focus and he saw a space marine in white robes standing over him, peering down at his face.

"How do you feel?" Apothecary Radri asked. Crau recognized him and realized where he was, the Apothecarium of the _Armageddon_.

"Fucking shit." He responded. Radri nodded thoughtfully.

"Understandable. You had quite a lot of poison in your system, it's a good thing your Sus-An Membrane kicked in when it did. Another moment with all that stuff running through your veins, you'd be a dead man." Radri said.

"Dead would feel better than this." Crau said, rising shakily to his feet. Radri backed away as Crau attempted to stand. His legs felt weak and he sat on the bed. "How long was I in suspended animation?" He asked.

"Not long, a couple days while we purged the poison from your blood and then revived you. We did quite well against the Dark Eldar, we crushed their army with minimal casualties and then destroyed their ship." Radri explained. "The Bloody Talons have left for their homeworld and we're staying for a little while to oversee the return of the population to a normal life."

"Isn't that something they can do themselves? Space Marines don't rebuild worlds, we kill the people attacking them and leave the construction work to the normal humans." Crau said.

"True, but it's more to make sure there aren't more Dark Eldar lurking about. We didn't think we'd need the Talons and they had orders to return to sub-sector Grael." Radri said.

"OK. How long will we be staying?" Crau asked. Radri shrugged.

"Ivan would know that, not me. Though I'd guess a couple months at the most." He said.

"Exhilarating. I suppose it's better that than going into the Warp so soon after coming out of suspended animation." Crau said.

"Precisely. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do. There's some food on that table, if you can walk to get it." Radri said. Crau nodded and the apothecary exited the room. Crau sat alone, contemplating the events of the battle in silence. After a little while, he looked at the table Radri had mentioned and decided he had better eat. He slowly rose to his feet. When he had determined that he had enough strength to walk two meters, he strode to the table and picked up the plate. The food was nothing special, just grey paste that was supposedly packed with nutrients. It tasted awful but it was healthy and incredibly easy to store on a ship traveling through space. He walked back to the bed with the plate and sat, eating with haste and gusto. Once he was done, he set the plate down and returned to his thoughts. But suddenly, he was ripped away from then when the ship rocked violently, sending him sprawling off the bed. Sirens began to wail and he scowled, rising to his feet. He looked around, unsure of what was going on until Radri stormed back into the room.

"Ivan wants you on the bridge. We're under attack." Radri said, clearly not approving of Ivan's decision to pull Crau out of his recovery. "Best stop by the armoury, in case we're boarded."

"Who's attacking us?" Crau asked.

"Imperial vessels." Radri said. Crau frowned, not understanding. "Go!" Radri snapped. Crau nodded and left.

* * *

Crau hurried onto the bridge, moving as fast as he could. His power armour helped him move somewhat, but he still had a little trouble moving. Nonetheless, he made it onto the bridge to find Ivan, Yariel and Orion in the middle of a heated discussion. Yariel noticed Crau first.

"Crau, we're under attack by Chaos Space Marines." Yariel said as Crau approached.

"That's what Radri meant..." Crau muttered. Ivan looked at him.

"What?" Ivan asked.

"Never mind. Tell me what's happened." Crau said.

"Fifteen ships appeared from the other side of the system. They were hiding in the rings of the gas giant." Orion said. "Clever bastards. Now, as you can see, we're a little outgunned."

"What are we planning on doing?" Crau asked.

"Fighting them off as long as possible while I think of what to do." Ivan said. "Which might not be very long, since that's an apocalypse class ship leading them." As he said this, the ship rocked under the impact of torpedoes smashing into its hull. Crau winced behind his visor, glad nobody could see him in that moment.

"Mi'lord, they're shooting boarding pods!" A serf cried.

"Shoot them down!" Ivan roared. "Shit... We'll have to retreat at this rate. Any suggestions, brothers?"

"Send a warning down to the planetary governor so he can send for aid, then make a warp-jump." Orion said. Ivan nodded and looked to Yariel and Crau.

"Any other ideas?" He asked. Crau shook his head and Yariel shrugged. "Alright, then. Serfs!" Before he could continue, however, the ship shook violently and a serf looked at him fearfully.

"They've breached the hull, we're being boarded!" The serf said. Ivan cursed.

"I want veterans responding to them. Get a message to the planetary governor, warn him of what's happening. If there are any more hull breaches, get us the fuck out of here. Yariel, Crau, Orion, with me, we're going to the breach." Ivan commanded. They all nodded and the four space marine commanders stormed off the bridge, Crau lagging behind a little.

They moved as fast as they could, readying their weapons as they neared their destination. The closer they got to the breach, the more they could hear. Crau heard gunfire, screams and laughter echoing through the halls. After a while, the sounds grew so loud they must have been near and these suspicions were confirmed when the group rounded a corner and found a squad of Sternguard Veterans behind cover that they had set up, firing shots over the top. Of the ten marines in the squad, two lay on the ground, one with a hole in his chest likely caused by a bolter and the other with his armour decayed and rotted beyond recognition, the marine twitching and spewing bile from the grille of his helmet. As they took cover with the squad, Crau kneeled down and examined this marine.

"Give him the Emperor's Peace." Ivan said, not bothering to look down. Crau nodded and drew his bolt pistol, emptying a round into the marine's head and ending his suffering.

"Why don't they fucking die?" A marine said in despair over the vox. Crau stood to his full height and peered over the cover. Down the corridor, a score of space marines with putrid green armour and bolters stood completely in the open. Their armour was rotted and covered in various mutations, boils, blisters, rust, welts, scars, holes and other such imperfections. Their bolters were in sorry states yet still seemed to be functioning fine and in the center stood a squat, slightly robust space marine carrying a long, corroded sword coloured a sickly green and dripping with yellow pus. This space marine cackled as he waved his sword through the air, sending a bolt of dark, putrid liquid from the end of the blade down the intersection that the Plague Marines stood in. There were screams over the vox and Crau realized that the chaos space marines were under attack from multiple sides. He noticed that none of the Plague Marines had yet died despite several of them being riddled with bolter rounds.

"Let's even the odds a little, shall we?" Ivan asked. He looked at Crau and then at Yariel. "On three. One. Two. Three." He said. The three of them leaped over the hastily erected barricade and charged, accompanied by four of the veterans who scaled the cover and continued firing as they advanced, not stopping even as the ship rocked and shook violently. Crau fired his bolt pistol and readied his power sword, Yariel trailed his thunder hammer behind him and Ivan crossed his dual power swords in an attempt to intimidate their quarry. Bolter rounds screeched for their quarry and some fired in return. A sternguard veteran was gunned down and then the sorcerer caused a second veteran to violently implode, sending gore and bile flying from the openings in his armour. The veterans stopped running a couple meters from the targets and stood stock still as they fired while Yariel, Crau and Ivan continued their advance. When they met the Plague Marines, Crau beheaded one, sending the decapitated corpse reeling as Ivan bisected two and Yariel brought his hammer down on the skull of another, ripping the marine asunder. Supporting fire continued to aid them and the Plague Marines drew rusted knives dripping with bile but they needn't have bothered as the commanders tore through their quarry. Crau impaled a Plague Marine but it did little and the marine raked his knife across Crau's pauldron. Crau jerked the blade around, attempting to kill his foe with pain but he seemed to feel none. Crau cursed and withdrew the sword, backing away and bringing the sword down on his head, cleaving it in two. He cut the legs out from under another Plague Marine and as he prepared to deliver a finishing blow, he was torn away from the fight by Yariel's cry.

"Ivan!" Yariel yelled. Crau whipped around and saw Ivan on his knees with the sword of the sorcerer through his chest. The sorcerer laughed, coughing and wheezing as he did so. The sorcerer withdrew his sword and took it in both hands. Yariel charged the sorcerer, roaring in rage, but the Sorcerer pointed the sword at Yariel and he was sent flying into a wall with a crash. Crau's eyes widened and he charged, but he knew he was too late. Time seemed to slow down as the corroded sword began its deadly arc and although Crau emptied two shots from his bolt pistol into the Sorcerer's abdomen, it did little to slow him down and the blade carved through Ivan's neck. Ivan's head toppled to the ground, rolling a little away in the helmet as the body crashed into the ground. As this happened, Crau roared in rage and reached the sorcerer, bringing his sword down on the sorcerer's torso. His power sword carved through pauldron, shoulder and a portion of his chest but the sorcerer merely laughed, coughed, grabbed Crau's wrist with the arm that he had cut through the shoulder of and then drove the corroded sword into Crau's primary heart. The plague marines paid no heed to these events unfolding, continuing their firefight with the sternguard veterans. Crau could make out the two that had charged with him being gunned down as his vision darkened. The sorcerer withdrew his blade and Crau staggered backwards, feeling something burning in the wound he had just received as he toppled onto his back. The last thing he saw before he blacked out was Yariel creeping up behind the laughing sorcerer and raising his thunder hammer overhead.

* * *

Crau awoke in the same bed he had woken in before. Everything felt like a dream, but the cold, empty feeling in his chest was certainly not a dream. His fingers found this emptiness where a part of his chest should be and felt metal plating. He frowned and opened his eyes. His vision was a little blurred, though not as bad as before. He sat up and looked around. Radri stood there, observing him, but the apothecary was not alone. This time, Yariel and Orion stood with him.

"What... Ivan..." Crau muttered. Yariel looked at the floor, silent. Orion rubbed his temples with thumb and forefinger. "Is... Was it a dream?"

"No. Ivan's dead." Orion said. His voice sounded hoarse.

"I killed the sorcerer, but I was too slow. Too slow to save Ivan, too slow to save you." Yariel said, his voice breaking.

"I'm not dead." Crau pointed out.

"No, but your heart got stabbed and you entered suspended animation for the second time in three days. That's not good." Radri said. "I've had to remove your heart and a good deal of your flesh and bone, too. That sword was corrupted with something and the corruption was spreading through your flesh. I've removed all of the corruption, though, so..." Radri trailed off.

"My heart? You... What?" Crau asked, not quite able to comprehend all that was happening.

"As of now, you have one heart. Your secondary heart, which was never meant to keep you alive on its own and it's doing a shit job. Once we can make sure none of the hearts from our dead marines are unusable, we're going to transplant one of them into your chest cavity." Radri explained. "Otherwise, you're going back into suspended animation until we can find you a new heart, chapter master."

"What? Chapter Master?" Crau said, frowning.

"Ivan died, you were captain of the first company, which makes you the new chapter master." Radri said. Realization hit Crau and he finally realized that he would never see his friend again. He looked away, feeling tears building up in his eyes. He was a space marine. Space marines did not cry. He bit his lip and did his best to stem the flow of tears before they broke free. Once he was certain he would not break down, he looked back at them.

"So the captain of the first company, is it Sergeant Viktor now?" Crau asked.

"Sergeant Viktor was killed in the firefight." Orion said. "Yariel's captain of the first company now. I should mention, we managed to kill all of the Plague Marines before we fled, then there was another breach with more boarding Plague Marines. Those ones didn't have a sorcerer with them and were dispatched a little easier and now we're in the Warp."

"Wonderful. How long until we reach Isphyda?" Crau said.

"Who knows? Isphyda is a long way away and the Warp is unpredictable. Get some rest, brother." Orion said. Crau frowned. It did not seem right to him that a captain should command a chapter master. But he did not push this.

"Alright. Get out, leave me to sleep." He said. They nodded and the three left. Crau lay back down, but he did not rest for a long time. All he could think of for several hours was Ivan's head falling to the ground, and the blade piercing his heart.

* * *

**Alright, that's the new chapter! Thanks for reading and apologies for the lateness of uploading, I had important school stuff that took precedence over writing this. Chapter 11 will not be behind schedule at all, however, so don't worry about that.  
**

**If you're curious about all the throwaway characters featured in this chapter (Agiel, Draakal, Zalheim and so on), this chapter was a tie-in for my 40k forum and more specifically, the first RP thread of that forum (entitled Sub-Sector Grael). Apologies for those who have no idea what it's about, this chapter was more or less written for the people who were involved in that. Although it's still somewhat relevant to this story, what with Ivan's death and all. **

**For those wondering where the Iron Warriors promised in the description are, you'll see some more of them soon. I'm almost done with build-up, chapter 11 will be the final chapter not directly involving the main story and then you'll see the Iron Warriors from chapter 8 again. **

**Also, if you want to see more of what I tied in here without reading through a concluded RP thread on a forum, I highly recommend you check out the story Wolf Chronicles by my good friend IrishCeltWarrior. It's a great story and Grael isn't the primary focus of it, so all in all, it's just a cool thing to check out if you have the time.**

**Alright, enough rambling or else this Author's Note will be longer than the chapter itself, thanks for reading and I will see you next week.**


	11. Chapter 11

**972.M41, Isphyda VI**

The blizzard, while intense, did little to slow the progress of the stormraven. Its jet black hull was at odds with the white flakes swirling around the air in the tundra of Isphyda VI, the red fist enclosing a red omega that was the heraldry of the Power Marines chapter on its side bright to any observers. Steam curled from the engines of the transport as it lowered through the air, any snow coming too close to the craft melting from the heat it radiated.

The stormraven touched down and the moment it landed, it sank a few inches into the snow-covered ground. Soon, the snow around it melted and formed a puddle around the ship, resting on the dirt beneath it and forming mud. As the ship began to cool, so to did the mud and it froze as the ramp thudded down into the ground. From the ramp, five tall, bulky figures wrapped in white cloaks stepped out of the ship. Parts of their black armour showed in the gaps between the folds of the cloak and the lead space marine huddled in his cloak, wrapping it around him.

"Where to now, sergeant?" A scout marine asked.

"South." Orion said. "The signal came from a spot a mile south of here."

"Why couldn't we just land by the spot it came from?" Brother Kain asked.

"Too conspicuous, we don't know what we're dealing with here and it wouldn't be wise to land by what is potentially dangerous." Orion responded. "Let's go."

The squad began trudging through the snow. As the initiates began pondering the blizzard together, Orion led them on, thinking about the mission. Two days ago, an unidentified signal had been received at the Power Marines fortress-monastery on Isphyda I coming from this location. Shortly afterwards, a large power spike had been detected in the same place and now Orion's squad was investigating. He was distracted from his thoughts by his squad bickering and he scowled.

"Look, I'm just saying that it's bloody cold." Brother Kain complained.

"Your body will be bloody cold in a minute of you don't shut the hell up." Orion growled.

"You wouldn't understand, sergeant. I'm from Isphyda III, it's a des-" Kain began.

"I'm also from Isphyda III, you don't see me bitching." Orion said. "Cut the chatter, all of you." After this, they walked in silence. After a while, Orion heard a faint roar in the distance.

"What was that?" Brother Willem asked.

"A Gulish beast, from the sound of its cry." Brother Yuri said. "They're very dangerous. Big thing, long arms, claws. Looks a little like my mother after too many glasses of the vodka." At this, Willem and Kain chuckled.

"It's not our concern. It's far away and we have a mission. The locals can deal with it." Orion said.

"As you say, brother Orion." Yuri said. After this, they continued walking in silence for a while until they reached the spot that the signal came from. Nothing was there, just piles of snow.

"Fan out, search the area." Orion commanded. As the scouts began searching, he pulled an Auspex from his utility belt and activated it. The screen showed many meaningless numbers and symbols and he adjusted the dial and pushed a few buttons, configuring it to scan for heat signatures. He slowly waved it through the air, staring intently at the screen. He could make out the heat signatures of his squadmates even though they had disappeared from view due to the blizzard and from a large mound of snow, a faint glow of heat was detected.

"Yuri, Leon, dig up that mound of snow. The small one." Orion called. There was no response but the Ausex showed two heat signatures making for the mound and soon Orion could make out their silhouettes as they got on their knees and began to dig up the mound. Before long, they found something.

"There's a metal door here, sergeant!" Yuri called.

"Willem, the flamer!" Orion instructed. Yuri and Leon backed away as Willem stepped forward and drew the flamer from his shoulder. The weapon was pointed at the door and as flames gushed from the muzzle the Auspex went mad. Orion scowled and turned it off. After a moment, Willem stopped the flames and a large, circular metal door was revealed surrounded by blackened dirt and grass as steam rose in the air. The whole squad stepped forward. The door looked ancient and was covered with rust.

"Get it open." Orion commanded. Kain and Leon approached and placed explosive charges on the door. They all hurried back and when they were a safe distance away, Orion instructed the two to blow the charges. There was a massive explosion and when the smoke cleared, the door was gone along with a lot of dirt, leaving a gaping, smoking hole in the ground. Orion drew his shotgun from the holster on his breastplate and approached the hole. He could see nothing inside and after a moment, he looked at the initiates and drew a grenade from his belt. Taking care not to remove the pin, he dropped it in and almost immediately heard a clanging noise.

"Isn't too deep." Orion murmured. He dropped in and his knees buckled a little when he landed. It was about two meters deep and as he landed, he was momentarily blinded as several lights activated. When his vision adjusted, he saw a long hallway with lights along the ceiling. At the end of the hallway was another door, this one in far better condition. He was standing on what was left of the door they had blown up. He turned around and saw that there was a ladder which they had not noticed before. He cursed. "There's a ladder!" He yelled. He looked up and saw Yuri climbing down. As his squad climbed down, he examined the corridor and looked closer at some shapes he had noticed before; three space marines lay dead on the floor. Though their armour was faded, Orion could make out various details. One wore black and although his markings had faded, the silver of his gauntlets indicated he belonged to the Iron Hands. This one was by the door and slumped against a wall with his head missing, a few meters away a black helmet lay. The other two wore grey, the pauldrons of one were blue. They were riddled with bolter rounds. A bolter lay beside the one in black and the one all in gray while a large chainaxe was by the outstretched hand of the one with blue pauldrons.

Soon, the entire squad was down there and Orion, having retrieved the grenade he dropped, nodded at the door and the squad strode down the corridor. As they approached the bodies, Orion noticed that both of the marines in grey had Mark IV power armour while the one in black wore Mark III power armour. They moved on and stopped by the door.

This one was rectangular and a little taller than Orion. There was a camera above the door and a speaker next to it. When they stopped, the speaker crackled.

"What is your designation?" A robotic voice said. Orion frowned.

"What?" He asked.

"What organization are you affiliated with?" The voice asked.

"We are the Emperor's Space Marines." Orion said.

"Which legion do you belong to?" The voice said in its monotonous tones.

"Legion?" He asked.

"Which legion do you belong to?" The voice repeated.

"Not a legion. We are of the Power Marines chapter." Orion said.

"Which legion is the Power Marines chapter a part of?" The voice said. It did not wait for a response before continuing. "Checking databases... No such chapter exists within any recorded legion. Scanning armour... Colour matches three legions, Legions I, X and XIX. Legions I, X and XIX designation... Loyal. Armour matches... No known mark of Power Armour matches. Designation... Infiltrator armour. Processing..." As this went on, Orion exchanged bewildered glances with his squad. There was a minute of silence and then the door hissed as it slid open. Immediately in front of them lay another dead space marine, this one wearing grey Mark IV armour and a power sword lying by his corpse. This one wore no helmet and it was clear that they had all been dead a while; only a grinning skull greeted Orion's eyes, a grinning skull and a large hole in his chest cavity. There was another corridor with a dozen corpses, some in black, some in grey, some in grey and blue. The ones in black all wore Mark III armour and the grey-clad ones all wore Mark IV. The exception was one black-armoured marine whose helmet was a beak, or "Beakie" as many of the Power Marines affectionately called them, of the Mark VI pattern armour.

"What the hell happened here?" Kain asked.

"Obviously, a battle. The ones in black, they're Iron Hands. The grey ones... They must be Word Bearers and World Eaters. I remember reading some of the older records we have stored that were given to us upon the chapter's founding. During the Horus Heresy, the Isphyda system was a part of the 500 worlds of Ultramar. When the Shadow Crusade hit it, the main defenders of the planets were Iron Hands that survived the Dropsite Massacre alongside a company of Ultramarines." Orion said. As they walked down the hallway, picking their way through the bodies, they reached the end. There was another door but this one was open, or rather, had been blasted open. What awaited them through the door was a mystery as no lights were on. They entered and a handful of lights turned on, illuminating the room. This room was filled with several shelves, each one containing sealed black containers. Several bodies littered this room, some in grey, some in black. And at the end of this large room, an iron pedestal stood. On it rested a black box and by it, several meters from the shelves and other bodies, a single dead space marine sat, his back rested against the pedestal. Orion stepped forward as his squad explored the room and crouched, examining this last space marine.

"What happened to you?" Orion murmured, his eyes searching the body for any wounds. There were no breaches in his armour and he was of the Iron Hands. Every other body had breaches in their armour, but this one was untouched. The visor of his helmet stared at nothing, the lights that should be glowing dimmed for thousands of years. Dust settled on his armour and much of the detail had faded. It was a sad sight. He rose to his full height and picked up the black box. He opened the box and inside found several small steel chips. They were recordings. He pulled a device from his utility belt and stuck a chip labeled _I, 007.M41_ into the device. He pushed a button and listened.

_"First audio log of Iron Hands brother Anatolus. It has been many months since the betrayal at Istvaan. As the massacre took place on the ground, I was stationed on the ship-" _At this, the audio cut out briefly. _"-s. Once the traitor ships starting firing upon us, we were one of the first to flee. We remained in the Warp for several weeks before emerging in orbit of this ice world. We have no idea what has become of the-" _The audio cut out again, before resuming. _"assume the worst. We are in the 500 worlds of Ultramar and a company of Ultramarines is now on this world with us, helping us prepare in case traitors arrive. I shall record these whenever I feel bored, to pass the time. Anatolus out."_ After this, Orion ejected the chip and carefully replaced it in the box before selecting another one. This one was labeled _VII, 008.M41._ He inserted it into the device and once again listened.

_"Seventh audio log of Iron Hands - -Tolus." _The part of his name that Orion could not make out was a result of static. _"World Eaters and Word Bearers have been attacking many of the worlds of Ultramar recently. Yes- - - Arrived in this system, which I recently learned is called Isphyda. We have made contact with some of them a few times. No - - -eport. Anatolus out." _Orion removed this chip and inserted another, labeled _VIII, 008.M41._

_"Eighth audio log of Iron Hands brother Anatolus. World - - -Earers have landed on this world, Isphyda VI. Three squads, including my own, have been sent to this bunker to guard gene-seed reserves of - Legion. Little has occurred today. I -" _the recording ended here with the sounds of bolter fire. The next recording was entitled _IX, 008.M41._

_"Ninth audio log of Iron Hands brother Anatolus. Yesterday, the World Eaters and Word Bearers discovered our bunker. Some idiot left the two front doors open while out scouting. They attacked and several brothers were killed. The final door has been sealed and they are presently trying to break through. They can't get reinforcements because we sealed the doors and the vox can't reach through - looking grim. In our haste to seal the doors, we sealed them with a timer and set that timer to 10,000 years. At the end of that a distress signal will sound, but I don't know - happen. Hopefully we can hold out against the traitors. Hopefully somebody is looking for us. Have to go now, traitors are getting through the door. May be final log." _Orion frowned as he removed this chip. He wondered how badly one must fuck up to set the timer to ten thousand years by accident, but he did not dwell on this for too long as he placed a chip labeled _X, 008.M41._

_"Tenth audio log of Iron Hands brother Anatolus. I'm the last one here. The traitors got through the door. We managed to kill them all and protect the gene-seed, but I'm the only one left. It's been a few days. Feeling very lonely in here. Hopefully the rest of the force is looking for me. Hopefully if I'm found, it's the Iron Hands or Ultramarines. - f- -. Might start recording these daily, to pass the time. M- -mour can recycle my waste as food for a few more weeks, but then I'll have no food. I should be able to survive a few more weeks, but water is a concern. Not looking too good, hope they find me soon. Anatolus out." _At this, Orion realized how this story would end. He felt a pang of sympathy for this Anatolus. He had waited for weeks, most likely, for help that was not coming. The Iron Hands on Isphyda had been wiped out and an Ultramarines relief force drove off the traitors. They likely knew nothing of this bunker though Orion surmised he would have to check the records when they returned to Isphyda I.

"Sergeant, I got one of these boxes open!" Yuri yelled.

"What's in it?" Willem called.

"Gene-seed, I'll bet." Orion said. Yuri frowned.

"How did you know?" Yuri asked.

"These recordings are telling a somber tale, my friend. Go outside, call the transport. We're bringing as many of these with us as possible when we go." Orion said. Yuri nodded. As he looked in the box, he frowned and Orion raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"This gene-seed is very well preserved. It must have been here for thousands of years." Yuri said.

"Ten thousand. They had good equipment, I suppose. Now silence." Orion commanded. He placed a chip labeled _XI, 008.M41._

_"Eleventh audio log of Iron Hands br- Anatolus. Not hungry or thirsty, my armour is doing a good job, but I'm bored and lonely. Target practice isn't an option, this place is too cramped and the rounds might ricochet into the gene-seed, so I have nothing to do to kill time. Perhaps I can try finding explosives on the traitor's bodies, like what they breached the inner door with, get myself out of here. Anatolus out." _

_"Twelfth audio log of Iron Hands brother Anatolus. No explosives, they used them all to get to us. Fu- - -. I really hope rescue is on its way. I don't want to die of thirst or starvation, I'd rather die in battle. Anatolus out." _Orion kept listening to the audio logs. Most of them were like this, wishes for rescue, ramblings to kill time, complaints about lack of food when the recycling systems of Anatolus' armour could do no more for him. The final audio log was labeled _LXXXVII, 009.M41._

_"Eighty-seventh audio log of Anatolus. Still no sign of rescue. - alone. Hearing voices. So thirsty... And hungry... Been pacing a lot to keep conscious, but it's too much. I need food, sleep, water. I'll just... Rest, by this pedestal. I'll get up in a minute, I just need a moment. Anatolus out." _There were no more audio logs from Anatolus. Orion sighed. This was very tragic, but it had happened a long time ago. Yuri entered the room.

"Transport's here. Let's load up these boxes, da?" Yuri asked. The rest of the squad began picking up boxes and walking out. Orion sealed the box with the audio logs and placed it on top of a gene-seed box, carrying both at once as he strode down the corridor. The squad made several repeat runs to load up as much of the gene-seed as possible. Once as much had been extracted as possible, Orion went back down one more time, standing by the body of Anatolus.

"Your service to the Emperor will not be forgotten, brother." Orion said. He turned and left. As he climbed the ladder and found himself back in the snow, he noticed that the blizzard had abated. Now, a light snowfall was all that served to obscure his vision and it did a poor job.

"What not, sergeant?" Kain asked.

"We've done what we came to do. Let's leave this tomb. I imagine our next mission may be to eliminate those Ork pirates that have been stirring up trouble for the populace." Orion said. "Or somebody else will deal with them. It doesn't matter, let's go.

* * *

**Outer reaches of Isphyda system  
**

Warsmith Savanax stood on the bridge of his flagship, a large battleship that served as the command ship among his small flotilla. The twelve ships hung concealed in the outer asteroid belt in the far reaches of the Isphyda system, beyond the reach of Imperial sensors that were not looking for enemies. It had taken a long time, but since the Agora conflict he had rebuilt his Grand Company fully and now, Dulenti had said this was the perfect time to strike.

"And now?" Savanax asked the sorcerer as he entered the bridge.

"We wait. The Ork pirates shall provide a suitable distraction while the feral orks recreate the Imperial tanks and weapons we have distributed among them. Then, while the Power Marines fight the Orks on their home, we swoop in and wreak havoc." Dulenti said. Savanax nodded thoughtfully. It was not a bad plan by any stretch of the imagination and Savanax had the patience required to see it through. Still, he distrusted the sorcerer and his inclination was to strike immediately. However, he kept his cool. He was living proof that Khornate did not have to mean reckless, given his long history of military success. This sorcerer was a newer recruit to his forces but nonetheless, Dulenti had proven himself a valuable asset.

"And our daemonic ally?" Savanax asked.

"Hmm? Oh, the Warpblazer. Quite eager for the slaughter that I've promised will free him." Dulenti said. Savanax frowned.

"Does he not realize that it's impossible to be freed so soon after his banishment? The war in Grael was only twenty years ago." Savanax said. Dulenti smiled his toothy grin.

"Oh, he was skeptical at first, but I can be quite... Persuasive." Dulenti promised. Savanax rolled his eyes.

"By all means, cease your humility." Savanax drawled. Dulenti chuckled.

"Tricking a daemon prince is no small feat, Warsmith. Well, if you'll excuse me, I must go to commune with Lord Tzeentch." Dulenti said. Savanax frowned as Dulenti left. He doubted this sorcerer had direct contact with a chaos god but made no comment.

* * *

**Private chambers of Dulenti  
**

The sorcerer sat in meditation when the swirling form of Tierra appeared before him.

"Hello, Warpblazer. It is good to see you." Dulenti said, smiling.

_"Your smile is horrifying, whelp. The Warsmith?" _Tierra asked.

"Suspects nothing. He is still convinced I have deceived you into thinking this war will free you." Dulenti said in a mock-sweet tone.

_"Your voice is sickening and only marginally less horrifying than you smile." _Tierra said.

"You are too kind." Dulenti said as sweetly as he could, emphasizing his smile.

_"It is good that you have tricked the Warsmith, I cannot see a wretch like him in my plans." _Tierra commented. _"What do you plan to do with him?"_

"You shall see in due time, Warpblazer. He has a part to play in the events to come. As do the Power Marines and in particular... Their chapter master. Stabbed by a daemon sword shortly before the conflict that saw you banished, I heard." Dulenti said.

_"A Plague Sword, wasn't it?" _Tierra asked. Dulenti nodded.

"I knew the one who wielded it. Kynaer was a colleague of mine, though we belonged to different legions. An outcast among the Death Guard, what with his sorcery. But now he is dead. The sword and the wound still have influence over the chapter master, however, despite the cybernetic implants. He just doesn't realize it yet." Dulenti said.

_"I would turn him myself if I possessed the ability but the thrice-damned Sanguinor has made such things... Difficult. Damn him and damn the Legion of the Damned. Damn the Bloody Talons and -" _Tierra ranted.

"I'm going to stop you right there." Dulenti said, smiling sweetly as he raised a hand. "As much as I find your anger... Thrilling, now is not the time."

_"Pah. Pathetic. I was done speaking with you anyway." _Tierra said, his form beginning to fade.

"Or do you mean you could not manifest enough power in the material realm to appear before me for any longer?" Dulenti asked. Tierra's smoky form had vanished before he could answer. Dulenti chuckled and resumed his meditation.


	12. Chapter 12

**972.M41, Isphyda I**

Yariel sat in the razorback transport as it trundled along the sweeping grass plains of Isphyda I. Five sternguard veterans sat with him, two carrying flamers and the other three carrying combi-flamers. He himself wielded a thunder hammer and was only sitting with this squad because there was no room for him in the rhino carrying the vanguard veterans.

They were currently headed into the forests of Isphyda I for their annual purges: Every year, the captain of the 1st company would organize multiple forays into the various ork-infested woodlands of the world, especially those nearest their fortress-monastery, to cleanse the world of the xenos. Isphyda I had been infested with feral orks for over a thousand years, long before the Power Marines were founded, when an Ork Waaagh! in its death throes came to the system, landed on the first world and were subsequently purged. However, following the destruction of this force, feral ork populations began springing up all across the planet and the locals had maintained a tradition of purging them yearly, a tradition the Power Marines happily took up when they were founded some two centuries prior. Yariel found it to be tedious. He had no doubt that a Power Marine who was recruited from this world would understand and enjoy it but he himself despised the task he was forced to organize and carry out yearly. He had no idea how Crau had managed it.

"Captain, we're nearing the Wyallin Forest." The driver of the transport said over the vox. The Wyallin Forest reportedly had the largest concentration of feral orks and thus was the first target for their purge. With any luck, Yariel and the Vanguard Veterans would be able to do the job on their own but if things went awry then the Sternguard Veterans would enter with their flamers and the twin-linked flamer on the razorback to clear the mess. If even then, things proved too difficult, a squad of terminators was ready to teleport in at a moment's notice.

"Copy that. Stop the transports when we come within a hundred meters." Yariel instructed.

"By your word." Came the reply. They traveled in silence for ten minutes before the vehicle ground to a halt. Yariel rose to his feet.

"Sergeant Avery, be ready to come at a moment's notice." Yariel commanded. The sergeant of the Sternguard Veterans nodded. Yariel walked to the hatch as it lowered and exited the razorback, taking in the deep green view. The lenses of his helmet filtered it with a dull red glow, but he could still take in the beauty of the rolling hills, the sweeping grasslands and the jade canopy of the Wyallin Forest. He smiled softly. He definitely preferred this world do the dusty, rocky, barren red deserts of his home, Isphyda III. He glanced to the left and saw the rhino transport as the Vanguard Veteran squad filed out of the hatch. He strode over to them.

"Brothers, you know what to do. We've done it many times." Yariel said. The veterans nodded as Yariel hefted his thunder hammer. "Let's go and kill some orks."

* * *

Yariel raised his hammer overhead with both hands as the hunched, hulking greenskin bellowed its guttural cry. He brought it down on the ork's head and a boom like the clapping of thunder split the air as a massive concussive blast was sent from the head of his weapon, pulverizing the upper body of the ork entirely. The dozens of others put up little resistance as the squad of Vanguard Veterans hacked their way through them, power weapons and lightning claws making mince-meat of the greenskins. Yariel sprinted to another ork and delivered a crushing blow to the gut, sending yet another thunderclap for which the hammer got its name through the air whilst shredding the body of the greenskin. A foolish, somewhat larger than usual one ran up to him, its long, muscular arms waving wildly as a crude axe swung in a relatively harmless arc at Yariel's head. He might have let the blade hit him as it would have had little effect on his helmet but his reaction time was deadly quick and he pulverized the skull and shoulders of the ork.

He looked around and saw that his brothers had made short work of the remaining feral orks. This was the second group they had come across. Half the size of the first one, it had offered little resistance and not a single marine had yet been killed.

"I wonder if the greenskins will ever make these purges exciting. Oh, how I prefer the ones that aren't feral." Sergeant Finn commented. "More of a threat but at least they provide a challenge."

"Honestly, I prefer not to have the risk of being shot to pieces on a routine cleansing." Yariel said. "We're not doing this for pleasure. It has to be done or their numbers will grow too large and we'll be swimming in green back at the fortress-monastery."

Almost as if on cue, the crack of a gunshot split the air as gore spurted from the freshly created hole in the side of Sergeant Finn's head.

"WAAAGH!" An ork in the trees bellowed and the air was filled with the sounds of crude ork guns cracking. They were far less lucky when shooting the rest of the squad as unlike Finn, all of the other marines wore helmets, but feral orks with firearms still proved quite a shock to them. Yariel was the first to recover as a slug grazed the side of his helmet. Several greenskins poured forth seemingly out of nowhere from the trees, some carrying the typical primitive blades and clubs of feral orks, others waving slightly more advanced melee weapons and also guns.

Yariel charged the orks, bullets bouncing off of and grazing his armour. He smashed his hammer into the side of one gun-toting ork, pulping its ribcage and sending the mangled corpse flying to the ground before he gave the same treatment to another and another and yet more. Meanwhile, the Vanguard Veterans also set upon the orks with gusto after recovering from their initial shock at seeing firearms in the hands of the feral orks. He heard the sound of armour cracking and blood squirting from an open wound but payed it no heed as he mangled another ork. Soon, the majority of the greenskins had been killed and a handful were fleeing. Yariel took a moment to look around as his brothers pursued the fleeing greenskins.

Alongside Sergeant Finn, one Vanguard Veteran had been killed, a lucky shot piercing the relatively undefended throat as the marine had looked up. Scores of orks lay dead and the last of the stragglers had been cut down. The squad began to rejoin Yariel in the field of bodies.

"What the fuck are feral orks doing with guns?" A perplexed veteran said.

"How should I know?" Yariel said. "Whatever the case, this mission has been compromised. I have no doubt that we can complete it if we bring in the rest of the veterans assembled but I'd rather not risk losing brothers unnecessarily. We need to return to the fortress-monastery to assess the situation."

"By your word, captain." Another marine said. "What about Finn and Vlad?" He asked, indicating the fallen marines.

"Carry them back to the transport. We'll need to get them to an apothecary for their gene-seed." Yariel said. Four veterans moved forward and picked up the bodies, two marines carrying each corpse. Another marine stepped forward and collected their weapons, carrying them all in a bundle.

"Let's move before more of them get here." Yariel said. They began walking and it didn't take them long to reach the transports. Sergeant Avery peered at them from the hatch of the razorback.

"What happened?" Avery asked. "We heard gunshots."

"The feral orks have guns." Yariel said. "We need to get back to the fortress-monastery." As he said this, his vox crackled.

"Captain, you must return at once!" A voice came. "We've received several reports of the orks carrying advanced weaponry far beyond the capability of feral orks."

"We'd noticed. Two casualties, we're heading back now. Please have the situation evaluated before we get back." Yariel said. There was no reply and he looked at the veterans as the bodies of Finn and Vlad were loaded into the rhino. He sighed and walked to the razorback, ducking his head as he entered.

* * *

Yariel stood in the briefing room looking at a map of Isphyda I as Crau paced the room and the serf delivered the news.

"Every major ork concentration on this planet has reportedly obtained firearms within the last twenty-four hours." The serf said, shuffling the papers in his hands and reading off them.

"How did this happen?" Crau demanded. The serf paled as the scarred face of Crau stared down at him, the red cybernetic eye piercing his soul as the metal plating on the left side of Crau's face betrayed no emotion whilst the flesh betrayed all of the fury.

"We don't know, chapter master but... Some reports indicate that the ork Freebootas in the system were spotted landing a large transport on the southern continent." The serf said.

"Damn it. I knew we should have shot their ship into oblivion the second they appeared in the system." Crau said. "Now they've been distributing weapons to the feral orks. We'll have to completely purge them all to stop this from getting out of hand."

"Maybe you should have sent out a strike cruiser." Yariel commented. Crau scowled.

"Piss off." Crau said. "Starting to sound like Orion. Yes, I should have sent out a fucking strike cruiser, hindsight is wonderful like that. How'd they even get a transport pass our ships? How did we not see them? This is a damn catastrophe. The orks will wreak havoc on the population and if things get too out of control they might get advanced enough weapons to destroy us. This could turn into a full-blown Waaagh! if we don't do something about it."

"What do you propose we do, then?" Yariel asked.

"I want you to mobilise the entire first company. Not just a couple squads, Yariel. We can't be complacent. A strike cruiser should also be dispatched to blow those damned freebootas to pieces. All Power Marine forces in other systems need to be recalled in case your veterans aren't enough." Crau said. The serf began frantically taking notes as Crau spoke. Yariel frowned.

"A bit drastic, isn't it? I don't think we'll need to recall our forces. Three hundred marines are in other systems, bringing them back could lose the Imperium wars." Yariel pointed out. Crau glared at him.

"There are over six million feral orks on this planet. Six. Fucking. Million. We payed them no mind before because they were scattered and primitive and we cleansed them every year though clearly somebody hasn't been doing his job properly in the past two decades or else maybe their population wouldn't be that large." Crau said. Yariel narrowed his eyes.

"If they have guns, it's only a matter of time before they start to get more advanced technology, maybe even sped along if these Freebootas keep distributing weapons. If they have the technology of an Ork Empire and enough orks on the planet to conquer the entire system, it's only a matter of time before one of them unites all of the rest. I will not see this spiral out of control, Yariel. We purge them all. None of the orks survive and we destroy every weapon they have so that when their spores grow into new greenskins, we only have to deal with feral orks. If your first company is incapable of purging six million orks, I imagine we'll need the entire chapter." Crau said.

"Alright, alright, point taken. I'll rally the first company. If need be, we can afford to simply bomb high-population areas or bombard them from orbit. Killing every last one of them by hand will be impossible." Yariel said.

"I will not bombard our own planet, Yariel. We kill them all personally." Crau said. Yariel nodded and turned on his heel. He paused and then left.

* * *

**Three Days Later  
**

Yariel stood atop the hill overlooking the large camp of orks in the plains. The fires of their camp lit up the night sky, sending plumes of smoke into the inky blackness while a warm glow was cast on it, blotting out the stars. These orks had been quite enthusiastic about their newly acquired weaponry and reportedly, their 'oddboyz' had been hard at work producing more. A small village near their forest had felt the effects of this the day prior and hundreds of civilians lay now in the blood-soaked street of that dead village, their glassy eyes staring but not seeing. Yariel gripped his thunder hammer tightly as he looked at the mass of tents and fires and hulking silhouettes.

"Captain, our forces are in position to strike and drop pods are standing by." Sergeant Reln said over the vox. Yariel looked to the side. A dozen meters away, the sergeant of the first company's command squad stood, preparing his assault bike for use.

"Very good, sergeant. Get on your bike, we attack at my word." Yariel instructed. He could make out Reln nodding and soon, the veteran mounted his bike. Yariel looked at his own bike and lifted his right leg over it to straddle the machine. Once he was sat firmly in place, he gripped one of the handles with his left hand and held the end of his hammer while the head rested on the ground. He turned on the ignition and took a deep breath.

"ATTACK!" He yelled over the vox, taking off on his assault bike with Reln's command squad in close pursuit while the jump packs of vanguard veteran squads screamed. There were many yells among the Orks and the bikers hit the bottom of the hill and were racing for the camps in no time at all. A large ork toting a massive rifle with a long ammunition belt coming from it came into view and as the gun was leveled, Yariel leaned to the side and smashed his thunder hammer into the head of the ork before it could pull the trigger. Yariel did not see the results of this blow but he heard the boom and his hammer met relatively little resistance, not being jerked back at all and remaining in Yariel's grip.

As Yariel zoomed through the ork camps, running down and striking down any ork in his path, his fingers found a trigger on the handlebar, squeezing it and opening fire with the twin-linked boltgun on the front of his bike. These rounds tore into an ork boy that was charging Yariel and once this ork was killed, he performed a sharp 180 degree turn before continuing to ride through the camps back the way he had come. He barely noticed the veterans of the first company slaughtering orks with him nor even the drop pods that were screaming from the sky, disgorging sternguard veterans that belched flame from their guns. Yariel was too focused on butchering every ork in his path.

It did not take long for them to completely wipe out the population of the camp. Yariel brought his bike to a halt and dismounted, resting the head of his hammer on the ground while he leaned on the weapon. He looked around him. Hundreds of orks lay dead and space marines were busy piling them up while veterans carrying flamers prepared to cremate the bodies en masse. Bodies and weapons were thrown onto large piles as tents were set ablaze. The Power Marines were slow, methodical in their work and once all the ork corpses had been piled up along with their weapons, prometheum spewed from the muzzles of flamers, igniting on the small flames at the tips of these weapons and setting the piles of bodies ablaze. Yariel heard footsteps behind him and glanced at the source. It was Reln.

"None escaped." Reln said. "We estimate upwards of a thousand orks were located in this camp. Casualties are uncertain as of yet but at present, I've counted five dead space marines." He continued.

"It's not enough. A thousand orks is nothing on the six million on this planet. How many such camps have we destroyed in the last three days?" Yariel asked.

"Twelve." Reln said. Yariel scoffed.

"Twelve. Even if all of them had as many orks as this one did, we'd still only have killed twelve thousand. Twelve thousand deaths means nothing compared to how many more we have to deal with. A fleabite." Yariel said.

"Maybe so, but our next target is the Wyallin Forest. A complete purge this time, not the foray you tried a few days ago." Reln reminded him. "We'll have the entire 1st and 2nd companies and armoured support, we can clear the Wyallin Forest of greenskins in under an hour with those forces. How many orks are in there, a hundred thousand? That's a larger dent than twelve." He continued. Yariel sighed.

"You're right, of course." Yariel said. He paused and looked at the burning piles of corpses. "We won't be able to use fire." He noticed. "It wouldn't be a good idea to use flamers in a forest as dense as the Wyallin."

"No, it wouldn't. What would you suggest as an alternative, captain?" Reln asked. Yariel shrugged.

"Well, there isn't a problem which cannot be solved with the use of high explosives. I'll make sure Relan gives us vindicators." He said. As he spoke, he heard the sounds of engines screaming and looked up to see several thunderhawk gunships descending from the skies.

"Well, back home we go. I'm sure you'll think of a good plan, captain." Reln said. Yariel chuckled as he watched the transports touch down.

* * *

**Isphyda System, bridge of the _Hopeless Redoubt  
_**

Tragun stood at attention by Captain Warren of the 3rd company, staring out the bridge at the stars as the strike cruiser traveled through the space of the system. They had just passed the gas giant, Isphyda V, in their pursuit of the ork Freebootas and their 'krooza'. Upon arriving in orbit of Isphyda III and opening fire upon the ork craft, the greenskins had immediately fled and now the _Hopeless Redoubt _was in hot pursuit.

"Damned cowards, they are." Warren said. Tragun nodded. "What do you make of their fleeing, sergeant?" At this, Tragun shrugged.

"They're damned cowards." Tragun said simply. Warren frowned.

"I just said that, sergeant." Warren said.

"Yes you did. Very good, captain." Tragun said. Warren scoffed.

"I've had less attitude from an Imperial guardsman. By the Emperor, you're a space marine, not one of them jumped up meatshields in shiny cardboard brandishing their laser-pointers. Act like it." Warren snapped.

"Yes, captain. Very good, captain." Tragun said. He was glad he wore a helmet so that Warren could not see the massive grin plastered across his face. Warren scowled and looked away.

"Damned young piece of... Why are you the sergeant of a command squad, sergeant? You haven't even got your first service stud. What was I thinking, promoting a marine who's not even been fighting for a century?" Warren said. Tragun shrugged.

"I'll get a service stud in eighteen years. That's not so long. And I imagine you promoted me because I was best for the job. It's not my place to question the judgement of my brothers." Tragun said.

"Unless it's requesting you not take the biggest gun you can find in the armoury." Warren said.

"Precisely, captain. Never get between a man from Isphyda I and his heavy caliber fully automatic firearms." Tragun said.

"Sergeant?" Warren asked.

"Yes, captain?" Tragun said.

"Shut up."

"Yes, captain. Very good, sir." Tragun replied.

"And wipe that shit-eating grin off your face. Don't think I don't know it's there, just because I can't see it." Warren growled. Tragun remained silent, happily disobeying this particular order. They stood in silence for a while. They sped past Isphyda V, it's rings and moons, rocketing through the void between Isphyda V and Isphyda VI while the ork krooza kept up its retreat. One thing was for sure, the craft was fast if nothing else. For almost all of this pursuit, it had managed to remain outside of weapon range. Whenever the _Hopeless Redoubt _closed the distance and prepared to fire weapons, the momentary slowing in their pace always allowed the orks to slip away before the guns could open fire.

The pursuit continued for many hours. Tragun stood vigilant, awaiting Warren's word without tiring despite remaining in the same position. It was only when they passed Isphyda VI and the Power Marines strike cruiser _Unyielding _that hung in orbit. As they passed, the _Unyielding _opened fire on the ork krooza and managed to deal some superficial damage but for the most part, it had little more luck than the _Hopeless Redoubt _and the orks were out of weapon range quickly. They were hailed by the _Unyielding _but did not answer, they were too busy in their pursuit of the orks.

And so the chase continued, lasting several hours. The previously tiny specks of asteroids on the outskirts of the system were rapidly expanding as they came into view and the ork krooza kept on fleeing. Tragun's smile had faded long ago and now he grew bored. He wondered how long the orks would keep fleeing. As he pondered this, suddenly there was a commotion among the chapter serfs manning the sensors.

"Captain, multiple ships just came into sensor range!" A serf yelled. Tragun looked at Warren. The captain's face betrayed no emotion.

"Are they moving?" Warren asked.

"No, we came close to them. They're Imperial ships, according to the sensors..." The serf said. Warren frowned.

"Where are they exactly?" Warren asked.

"Among the asteroids." The serf said.

"Are the orks within weapon range of them?" Tragun chimed in.

"Undoubtedly." The serf replied.

"Then why aren't they shooting?" Warren asked. Before waiting for an answer, he spoke again. "And what are they doing there? Not any of ours, did the sector governor move any ships to our system?"

"I... I don't know. We can check, but-" The serf began before suddenly other serfs began yelling excitedly.

"They're priming their weapons! Those orks are going to be stardust!" One serf cried. Warren squinted. Tragun followed suit. He could make out faint vessels among the asteroids. Bright lights that were no doubt their weapons made them easier to find as the _Hopeless Redoubt _drew closer. But something was wrong. Tragun could not quite put his finger on it as the distance between the Power Marines and these unknown Imperial vessels shortened. Tragun heard Warren gasp.

"Those aren't Imperial ships! Turn us around, now!" Warren yelled. Suddenly, a blinding flash of light illuminated the void of space and the bridge of the _Hopeless Redoubt_. The ship suddenly rocked violently as torpedoes and melta lances hammered into its bow. Tragun staggered from the impact. When he steadied himself, he could barely make out the outlines of the hostile ships. He noticed many spiky protrusions along the hulls of this fleet and could just see the outline of an eight pointed star on the bow of the closest ship.

"Chaos." Tragun said, scowling. The void was lit up again and once more the _Hopeless Redoubt _shook violently. It was turning, but slowly.

"Damnation, we can't get anywhere if we're shot to pieces before we retreat. Divert power to the void shields and turn us around as quickly as you can. And shoot back, damn it!" Warren yelled. The serfs on the bridge scrambled to carry out his orders, buttons being pressed and the serfs manning the guns being voxed to inform them of what to do. The ship repeatedly rocked and the void of space was never wanting for illumination as they exchanged fire with the enemy fleet that outnumbered them so greatly. They had stopped advancing for the enemy fleet but the other side had different ideas and were slowly moving forward as they shot the _Hopeless Redoubt_. The ork krooza had slipped away in the confusion and Tragun did not know where it was. Suddenly, the ship rocked far more violently than any previous time and sirens began wailing.

"Captain, they just blew out our primary engines!" A serf yelled. "We can't outrun them like this!"

"What happened to the damn void shields?" Warren yelled.

"They overheated, too much strain from enemy fire." As the serf said this, the ship continued to rock violently. "They keep blowing up our engines like this, we'll be sitting ducks! Communications are gone, too, we can't warn the chapter master."

"All power to starboard guns, then! If we're lucky, we can overwhelm them." Warren said desperately. Tragun stepped forward.

"Captain, no. You know how much I love blowing shit up, but we can't do this. We don't have the firepower to fight them off." Tragun said. Warren cursed and paced the bridge as the chaos fleet continued to pummel them.

"One of their ships is pulling up alongside us! They're going to board us!" A serf cried in terror. Tragun knew how bad this was. They hadn't brought the entire third company with them and Tragun did not doubt that the enemy had a large enough force to make it moot even if they had the entire company. From the look on Captain Warren's face, he knew it too.

"To... To the escape pods." Warren said. He looked utterly lost. Retreat was not something Captain Warren was used to and everybody in the chapter knew it. But not even a man as stubborn as Warren could try and make this situation look salvageable.

"I'll go to the Armoury in case they try to intercept us, we could benefit a heavy-" Tragun began.

"No." Warren cut him off. "You have a sword, that will be adequate for the purposes of fleeing. Use it." Tragun nodded reluctantly.

"By your word, captain." He said. Warren scowled and took a deep breath.

"Abandon ship!" Warren yelled. Tragun drew the power sword that hung at his side as Warren did the same. The two calmly strode through the mass of fleeing serfs as they tried to exit the bridge. It took a while to get through the throng of serfs, but once they were off the bridge they could move relatively quickly. Warren voxed all third company space marines aboard the craft to head for the escape pods. The ship shuddered as it was forcibly connected to the chaos ship via its starboard airlocks. The benefit of this was that they were no longer under fire from the enemy fleet. However, Tragun had no doubt that soon, they would be swimming in enemies. He quickened his pace.

It did not take long to arrive at the escape pods on the port side of the _Hopeless Redoubt_. Hundreds of chapter serfs were crowded in the hall by the escape pods as the dozen space marines on board attempted to herd them onto pods with some semblance of order. It was difficult progress and the enemy was no doubt closing in.

"Faster, damn you all!" Warren roared, delivering a kick into the rear of a particularly slow serf and sending him reeling towards an open door into an escape pod. Though it was slow going, the serfs gradually filled in the pods and emptied out the hall. Once pods were full, they jettisoned from the ship and hurtled through space. When there were about two score serfs left not aboard pods, the Iron Warriors arrived.

Dozens of chaos space marines sprinted into the hall, opening fire upon the serfs and space marines. Tragun dived behind a crate before he could be shot to death though many serfs were not so lucky and screams permeated the air. Tragun set down his sword for a moment and drew his bolt pistol, firing blindly over the crate. Suddenly, he was joined behind the crate by Captain Warren.

"Make sure the last of the serfs are on pods, then get on one yourself!" Warren yelled.

"But we need to fight them!" Tragun complained.

"NOW!" Warren bellowed. Tragun was galvanized into action and he rose to his feet. Forgetting his sword, he ran for one of the hatches leading into a pod as bolter rounds whizzed through the air around him and firing back without looking. When he reached the hatch, he leaned against the wall.

"Go, go, go! In!" He yelled at three serfs who were cowering behind a crate nearby. He did not wait for a response as he gripped his pistol in both hands and put a round in between the lenses of the helmet of one chaos space marine. The round detonated, ripping apart the head of the unfortunate chaos space marine and dealing minor damage to the helmet containing the freshly pulped head. He leveled his pistol on an Iron Warrior wielding an autocannon but was too slow in pulling the trigger as several rounds from the gun ripped through his leg and gut. He yelled in pain but managed to remain standing long enough to shoot the Iron Warrior through the heart. His left leg gave out and he crashed to the ground. However, he did not let this stop him from fighting and he continued to fire at the Iron Warriors as the last of the serfs got into escape pods. Seven of the Power Marines had been killed while a similar number of Iron Warriors lay dead. The remaining five astartes continued their firefight while Warren cut his way through Iron Warriors. Soon, the room was clear of chaos space marines. One more marine had been gunned down, however. This brief respite was not to last, though, as a hulking chaos space marine in terminator armour barrelled through a doorway, bisecting a Power Marine with his massive two handed axe. Tragun fired at this new enemy but his rounds had no effect on the terminator armour and merely served to scratch the paint.

"Brothers, flee!" Warren yelled. Of the three other space marines, only two were able to carry out this order as the third was beheaded as it was given. They began to flee and one of them stopped by Tragun to help him up. Tragun leaned on his shoulder as they entered an escape pod. Once they were aboard, Tragun looked out the hatch. As he was about to call out to Warren, the captain's head was cleaved in two by the terminator. Tragun's words died on his lips and the hatch closed, the pod jettisoning before the terminator could pursue them. As the _Hopeless Redoubt _grew smaller and smaller as he stared out the window, Tragun slumped back in a seat and allowed himself the luxury of passing out from his injuries.

* * *

Warsmith Savanax examined the bodies around him. Iron Warriors, Power Marines and normal humans.

"Pathetic." He said, planting the head of his Axe of Khorne on the ground and resting his hands on the haft. Next to him lay the body of the captain he had just slain. This captain was quick and had managed to stab him through one of the weak points in his armour. Savanax respected that and wished he could have given the space marine a more glorious death befitting his prowess, but such was the way of war. He activated his vox caster.

"Dulenti, we have captured their ship. Come aboard when you can, you said you had a plan for it?" Savanax said.

_"Absolutely, yes. A plan you might find amusing. I shall regale you with the details later, first I must speak with the Warpblazer and then I can join you." _

"You won't be joining me, sorcerer. I'm going back to the _Crucible of Blood_. Do what you need to do." He said. The only response he got was the usual boot-licking he had come to expect from the sorcerer. As he turned off his vox in the middle of Dulenti's words, several more Iron Warriors entered the hall.

"Warsmith, we have combed the ship. Few of their number did not escape but we have killed those among that number. The ship is ours." A marine said.

"Good. I shall return to the _Crucible of Blood_. Do as the sorcerer instructs you when he comes. Iron Within, Iron Without." Savanax said.

"Iron Within, Iron Without." The chaos space marines echoed. Savanax hefted his axe and strode from the hall.


	13. Chapter 13

**972.M41, Isphyda I**

Yariel stood in the middle of a grass field surrounded by space marines and tanks. Two hundred marines plus armoured support. Half of them were veterans of his company, the other half were regular Astartes of the second company, led by Captain Helios. The armoured support consisted of the dreadnoughts of the two companies as well as two dozen vindicators and predator tanks as well as three Whirlwind artillery tanks. The centerpiece of this task force was the hulking metal frame of a land raider crusader, the hurricane bolters on its sponsons ready to deliver death to any greenskins that fell within their line of sight. The last of the tanks had just been deposited by thunderhawk transports that now soared back into the skies as an army capable of conquering planets prepared to storm the Wyallin Forest. Yariel walked over to Captain Helios.

"Are you ready, brother?" Yariel asked the younger space marine. Helios nodded, hefting his power sword.

"As ready as I can be." He said.

"Good." Yariel responded. He turned away and walked to the front of the group. "Attack, brothers! Charge!" He roared, lifting his thunder hammer with both hands and running in the direction of the forest. The ground rumbled as two hundred pairs of ceramite boots followed him and dozens of tanks advanced behind, guns primed.

* * *

Yariel smashed his hammer into a tree as the Ork ducked his blow. The tree promptly shattered into a thousand pieces, sending hundreds of splinters into the greenskin and killing it anyway. Several of the splinters hit Yariel but they did little more than scratch the paint on his armour. He ran at another Ork and pulverized its head with his hammer while all around him, guns blazed. Trees were torn apart by the score as dozens upon dozens of Orks fell to the wrath of the Power Marines. As this happened, Predator tanks disgorged autocannon fire which punched through even the heaviest of armoured Orks and Vindicators sent demolisher cannon shells through the trees, creating enormous craters that left not even the roots of trees untouched. From above, Vengeance missiles from the Whirlwinds rained death upon Ork and wildlife alike, firing indiscriminately into the forest to provide support. In the distance, Yariel heard the constant spray of death from the Land Raider that cleared large swathes of trees and Orks.

The Power Marines shot at anything green that moved, taking no chances and rejoicing if gore followed, uncaring if not. None were spared their wrath and Yariel was at the front of it all, brutally killing any Orks in his way while Assault Marines, Vanguard Veterans and Assault Terminators did the same. As Yariel sprinted for a particularly large Ork wielding a massive chainaxe, he clenched his fists around the handle of his hammer, smashing it into the weapon of the Ork and sending shards of metal into the hands and chest of the greenskin. It yelled in surprise as a dark red fluid sprung from between its fingers and from his chest before Yariel sent a strike from his hammer into its skull, the satisfactory thunderclap filling the air.

"Push forward, brothers! No mercy!" He yelled, grateful for the vox assisting him in being heard over the cacophony of death and destruction. As he charged onward, bullets whizzed through the air around him. An assault marine's charge was cut short as one such bullet pierced the left lens of his helmet, bright red blood and shards of crimson glass flying from the wound as the marine crashed into the ground. Another assault marine took a bullet to the throat and hit the ground hard, but Yariel pushed that from his mind as he pressed on. As they continued pushing, suddenly the trees in front of and beside Yariel were torn to shreds as the air filled with bullets. Yariel staggered back as several rounds crashed into his breastplate. None penetrated but several large dents were left in the stark white Aquila on the breastplate of his Artificer Armour. He frowned as the cameras in his lenses zoomed in on the source of these bullets.

Ahead was an Ork gun emplacement, several heavy caliber machine guns planted in rocks and trees with the tiny green servants of the Orks, Gretchin, scurrying about and making sure a constant stream of bullets were belched forth towards the Space Marines.

"Fall back and circle around, brothers! The tanks can handle them!" Yariel commanded. He scrambled backwards as his men sent snap-shots in the general direction of the greenskins while they too fell back, fading into the trees before too many of their number were gunned down. The Vindicators, however, continued plowing on through the trees, their dozer blades ripping even the largest of trees up by their roots and forcing them aside. Demolisher cannons roared and the shells detonated amidst the gun emplacement, high-pitched screams accompanying the noise of the blast as the gretchin were turned into clouds of fine red mist that filled the air alongside dirt that was thrown up by the explosions. A handful of the guns remained in place though their crew were reluctant to remain in the line of fire and so fell back as the Vindicators pressed on, grinding the corpses beneath their treads to paste.

As this went on, Yariel weaved his way through the trees to avoid the hails of fire that were spat at him and his brothers. He needn't have bothered as the Vindicators soon silenced the guns. Many corpses and ruined trees littered the woods and few Orks remained nearby.

"They are routed, keep pushing onto their main settlement! None survive!" Yariel bellowed, sprinting forth and trailing his massive hammer behind him. Bolter fire filled the air as the 1st and 2nd company pursued the fleeing Orks and though things looked good, Yariel knew he could not get careless. Orks only retreated to regroup and he imagined that there was a much larger force waiting for him and his men. Casualties had been light so far but they had only just scratched the surface of the enormous Ork presence in these woods. As Yariel leaped over a stream and landed over the rocks on the other side, he ignored the blood flowing through it and kept moving.

It did not take long for more Orks to come into sight. A clearing ahead was filled with no less than thirty Orks and they had yet to notice Yariel, they were too busy setting up heavy guns. He smirked behind his helmet and sprinted ahead, storming into the clearing with unbridled fury and dispensing the wrath of the Emperor upon the unsuspecting greenskins. Three had fallen to his hammer before they realized they were under attack. Another two before they reacted. The remaining twenty-five Orks shot and stabbed and sliced at him. Their attacks were for naught as little of their blows left so much as a dent in his armour. However, a handful of rounds penetrated weak spots in his armour and those wounds left him grimacing in pain. He rampaged through the clearing, handing out death to any that strayed within the reach of his hammer. He was unable to do so to the incoming bullets, however. One heavy round punched through his breastplate and send him reeling as blood leaked out of the hole. He gasped in pain. No major organs had been hit and his armour and heavily reinforced rib-cage had stopped the bullet from causing too much harm, but he was left shocked for a moment.

An Ork seized that opportunity, rushing forward and bringing its sword at Yariel's gut with all its might. The weapon was incapable of penetrating Artificer Armour. It was, however, capable of cutting through the armoured sheaths that covered the power cables on the lower part of his breastplate and it did just that, severing the power cables. Suddenly, Yariel was completely powerless. All the lights within his helmet went out leaving him to stare out at the world through a blank red lens. All the power systems in his armour simply went out and Yariel keeled over, crashing into the ground and landing flat on his back, incapable of mustering the strength to move his incredibly heavy armour. He cursed and struggled with all his might, but it was for naught. The armoured suit had become a prison.

The Orks, thinking they had killed him, celebrated, whooping and cheering. One crouched by him and pulled out an axe, presumably to take his head as a trophy. It was in that moment that Yariel realized that he fucked up. Yariel took a deep breath, preparing himself for the end, when the sounds of bolter fire split the air and the Ork next to him was riddled with bolter rounds. A moment later, it was ripped to shreds as the rounds detonated. The celebratory cries of the Orks turned into cries of shock and agony and within ten seconds, all of them were dead. Four sternguard veterans and a tactical squad entered the clearing, inspecting the corpses. One crouched by Yariel and looked him up and down.

"He isn't dead, brothers, they cut his power. See there, his power cables. They're fucked." The veteran said. The other marines gathered around. Yariel tried to move to motion that this was correct.

"I think his left hand just twitched." A marine said.

"Doesn't matter, we need to let Captain Helios know. Two of you from the 2nd company, stay here with him and contact Helios, the rest of us need to rejoin the battle." The one crouching by him said. Two tactical marines volunteered and the rest of the space marines departed. After a minute, one of the marines glanced at Yariel.

"Let's prop him against that tree, this is no time to be napping on the job." The marine said, sniggering. The other one complied wordlessly and they dragged Yariel to a tree at the edge of the clearing, sitting him up with his back resting against it.

"Should we get his helmet off?" The second one said. The first one nodded and stepped forward, grabbing Yariel's helmet and removing it. Yariel blinked repeatedly as his eyes adjusted to the light.

"Good morning, sunshine. Have a pleasant nap?" The first marine said. They both laughed. Yariel was not amused.

"I notice you two have yet to contact Helios. If you would cease being idiots, now would be an opportune moment." He said. He hated how much he was sounding like Orion, but he was not in the mood to be ridiculed. The first guffawed loudly.

"Idiots, is it? And after we volunteered to guard you from the greenskins? Harsh, captain. Harsh." The first one said.

"What's your name, brother?" Yariel said.

"Mikel. Why?" He said.

"Because once this is over, I will be informing your captain so he might give you a suitable-" Yariel began before Mikel smiled and walked up to him.

"And helmet goes back on." He said, planting the helmet firmly on Yariel's head. Yariel scowled.

"That's better. Alright, brother, you'd better vox Helios." Mikel said. The other marine nodded.

* * *

Crau stood in the hall wearing full armour and surrounded by several serfs as he received the report from Captain Helios over the vox.

"A resounding success, brother. Nearly all of the Orks in the forest are dead. We lost twenty-seven marines but our tanks remained unharmed. They acquire more advanced technology with each passing day, but they have not yet discovered anti-armour weapons, it seems. Captain Yariel was wounded in the battle and the power cables in his armour were destroyed, but we've gotten him out of it." Helios said.

"Good." Crau replied. "Return with haste. We need to figure out our next target." He said.

"Of course. Before I go, chapter master, Yariel would like to speak with you. I have him ready with a vox caster now." Helios said. Crau sighed, thinking he knew what was about to come.

"Patch him through." He said.

"Brother, this battle was a success, but we cannot win this war by killing every single Ork on the planet personally. They grow better equipped with every day and our casualties will only grow. We have bloodied their nose this day but-" Yariel said.

"Stop, Yariel. Not now. If we must have this argument, let us have it face to face." Crau said. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in the middle of his chest, so powerful he sank to his knees. Multiple serfs rushed to his aid, asking if he was alright. Crau paid them no heed as a laugh filled his head.

_"He's right, you know. You can't wipe out the Orks on the field of battle. It's a pointless endeavor and you have more to worry about, I assure you." _A voice said. Crau's eyes widened and he made sure the vox in his helmet was off.

"What is this?" He hissed.

_"Largely irrelevant. You can worry about greenskins all you want, but there is something else ruling over you. You may not realize it, but that wound from twenty years ago... It still controls you. Oh, you removed the corrupted flesh and replaced it with steel, yes. You replaced the destroyed heart with a new one taken from a deceased brother, yes. But make no mistake, the Rot is still within you, clouding your mind. It has been silent, but it will not be forever. When it finally awakens, heed these words. Do not resist. Give in to the temptation. Things will be far less painful that way." _The voice said. Crau scowled, narrowing his eyes.

"Begone, daemon." He growled. A shrill laugh filled his ears.

_"Oh, I am not a daemon. Not yet, at least. You will hear more from me soon." _The voice receeded.

"Chapter master, chapter master! Is everything alright?" A serf asked, shaking him. Crau pushed the serf away and rose to his full height.

"I am fine. Yariel, we'll discuss this later. I must go. I have had little rest in the past week and I should go to my chamber to remedy that." Crau said.

"Fine. Until next time, brother. Goodbye." Yariel said. The vox line went dead. Crau turned and strode off, making for his bedchamber. Several serfs followed him and when he arrived, he turned and waved them off.

"Go, I am fine." He said.

"At least let us help you remove your armour, you are tired." A serf insisted. Crau scowled.

"Away!" He bellowed. The serfs scurried off. Crau growled in pain as he walked through the door. When he made sure it was locked, he began removing his armour. Soon, he sat on his bed, completely naked. He looked at his chest. The old scar on his sternum that had long since gone a stark white was now a sickly green and it had reopened as if the wound were fresh and horribly infected. The metal around the wound had partially rusted. He rested his elbows on his knees and sat on his bed with his head in his hands for a long while as pus and blood dripped onto the floor. Soon, the blood and pus stopped and the wound began to scab over. Far longer than it should have taken, given his gene-seed implants. He scowled and lay back on the bed. It took many hours for him to fall asleep.

* * *

**Bridge of the _Hopeless Redoubt_ **

Dulenti stood as cultists and nurglings scuttled about the bridge carrying out his orders, smiling as things were rearranged. Things were coming along rather nicely. A smoky form suddenly appeared in front of him.

"Ah, Warpblazer, it is good to see you once more." Dulenti said, smiling. Tierra scowled at him, the childish figure in the smoke wrapped up in its dark wings.

_"I can't manifest my presence in the mortal realm for long this time, so I'll skip the punishment you deserve for your attitude last time." _The daemon said. Dulenti bowed.

"I am honoured by this act of kindness, O Great One." He said, smirking. Tierra snarled at him.

_"Shut up. I have been watching the chapter master of the Power Marines, the one called Crau. His wound from Kynaer's Plague Sword has reopened and I can sense the Rot spreading through him. Did you have something to do with that?" _Tierra asked.

"Forgive me, I would answer, but you have respectfully requested I remain silent, remember?" Dulenti said. Tierra scowled.

_"Shut up and answer the question!" _Tierra snapped. Dulenti chuckled.

"Oh, I'd love to discuss the semantics of that statement... No matter. I might have, yes. It was only a matter of time before it started to take hold, however. I merely hastened the process somewhat."

_"Good. I will continue to watch, unless I am needed." _Tierra said, the smoky form dissipating. Dulenti chuckled. His vox receiver beeped and he activated it.

"Greetings, Warsmith. Is there something you require?" Dulenti asked.

"Yes. You counseled patience while the Power Marines found enemies aside from us. The Orks have done their work. I want to attack." Savanax said.

"Your patience must continue, my lord. The Orks have yet to cause a significant amount of damage to them and besides, the stage is not yet set. There is still one more actor to be cast, so to speak." Dulenti said. There was a grunt from the other end.

"I thought you might say something like that... Damn you and your cryptic bullshit. I will wait, but I would like you to explain to me what precisely you mean by that." Savanax said.

"Patience, my dear Warsmith. All will be revealed in good time. I have deceived the deceivers, that is all you need to know. Iron Within, Iron Without." Dulenti said. A sigh came from the other end.

"Fine. Continue converting that ship, then." Savanax said.

"Of course, my lord." Dulenti said, cutting off the vox. He looked at a passing Nurgling and frowned. "Why am I using you pieces of... No, not there, move it over there!" Dulenti yelled at the creature, pointing at the far wall. The Nurgling scurried in the direction indicated, carrying the box atop its head gingerly.

* * *

Yariel stood with Crau, the latter wearing his armour.

"We can't kill every Ork on the planet, Crau. Maybe if they were all bunched up in more convenient locations like the Wyallin Forest, but they aren't. That was the largest individual Ork settlement on the planet and it had a hundred thousand Orks in it. There's still nearly six million Orks left, we don't have enough men nor ammunition." Yariel said. Crau sighed.

"You're right, of course. You know you're becoming more like Orion since Ivan died." Crau said. Yariel shrugged.

"Burdens of command, I suppose. The first company isn't the same as the second. So, since we've acknowledged I'm correct, can we discuss what to do next?" He asked.

"We can't kill them all but we can't just allow them to roam free. The Freebooters have complicated matters by providing them with technology and stirring them up. Some of our scouts have reported several Ork warlords have risen up in the Reydrik Peninsula, to the south. Together, all eight of them command around half a million Orks and they've completely scoured the human population of the area." Crau said.

"So bombard them and be done with it, if all the humans are clear." Yariel said. Crau shook his head.

"If we do that we damage the area itself too much to be resettled by humans. Not all of the population there were killed, some were enslaved or driven out. All eight of those warlords are currently fighting one-another. We wait for one to emerge victorious and then we strike at their heart before they have a chance to spread to the rest of the Orks. Cut the head off the serpent and the body will die. As long as we keep killing major Warlords before they arise to prominence, we prevent the risk of a full blown Waaagh! If we respond to attacks on the human populace as soon as they occur, not many should die. What do you think?" Crau asked. Yariel shrugged.

"It's a good plan. I'll organize some forces to strike once a victor emerges on the Peninsula. With luck, the rest of them should fall to infighting and we won't have to kill them all ourselves." Yariel said.

"Good. Is there anything else?" Crau asked. Yariel nodded.

"Yes. Not about the Orks. I was told you collapsed during our conversation earlier. What happened?" Yariel asked. Crau stared at him, his helmet showing no signs of emotion. It was a cold stare, and Yariel imagined the face showed as little emotion as the armour covering it.

"I was tired, that is all. I rested, I am better now." Crau said. Yariel wanted to press the matter but decided against it.

"Alright. Well, I'll go to make preparations." Yariel said.

"Good, see to it that you do." Crau said coldly. Yariel nodded and turned, striding off to carry out the orders.

* * *

A large mob of Orks stood in their camp, happily feasting upon the carcasses of several humans from the village they had just raided. The corpses hung on spits, slowly turning over fires with greenskins approaching and stripping off large chunks of the greasy meat with their clawed hands whenever they were hungry. At the center of the camp sat the tribe elder, chomping on a fungus cigar as he watched the younger Orks fighting over meat and guns. He frowned, scratching his squashed nose.

"Oi, gitz! You'z want to take dem gunz, den you'd betta be payin' teef for 'em! Doze Freebootaz didn't give 'em to us for free!" The Elder said.

"Ah, alright, Longtoof..." One Ork that was in the process of strangling another Ork over a shiny shoota said forlornly. He let the other Ork go and reached into his mouth, grunting in pain as he ripped out several of his teeth. He tossed the bloody molars at the other Ork, which scowled as it collected them and kicked the gun at the first Ork. The Ork gave a bloody grin as it held up its new weapon, grunting and yelling a guttural cry. Longtoof sighed, turning his fungus cigar in his mouth as he looked into the distance. Then, he saw a flash of white light that caught his eye and he adjusted his position on the seat, frowning.

"Oi, wossat..." He muttered. "Oi, gitz! Flashy fing over dere, check it! See wot it is!" Longtoof yelled.

"Flashy bitz, flashy bitz, flashy bitz!" One Ork yelled, whooping and grabbing his axes. He beat them together and ran in the direction that Longtoof pointed, half a dozen more Orks following. Longtoof nodded in satisfaction and leaned back in his chair, taking a long, satisfying drag on his fungus cigar. Then, suddenly, the green mass of the Orks running for the flashy bitz was replaced with a flurry of gore as they were torn apart by an unseen assailant. Longtoof's eyes widened and he scrambled from his chair, grabbing a shoota.

"WAAAAGH!" The Ork with the bloody smile yelled, grabbing his new shoota and charging as the gun spat bullets for the trees. A hail of something white that moved so quickly Longtoof could not follow it with his eyes shot from the trees and tore the Ork to shreds. Several such unseen attacks came and soon Longtoof was the only Ork left in the camp, firing his shoota desperately at the trees. A shadow suddenly appeared overhead and he looked up to see a lithe, white and green clad figure with dark blue wings descending from the sky, a long, elegant black rifle in hand. The skinny creature wore a haunting mask and a shrill shriek filled the air as the rifle opened fire on Longtoof, red beams of light leaping from its tip and punching through Longtoof's gut and chest. He coughed blood as the same substance sprang from his wounds and he collapsed to the ground. The creature landed on him feet-first, crushing his ribcage with the momentum before the mysterious figure drew a long, curved sword from his hip and tossed the rifle aside. He flourished the sword briefly before striking at Longtoof's neck. His head was sent bouncing a meter away and it came to rest staring at the creature that had just beheaded him in confusion before he died.

Autarch Dalmar stood next to the headless Ork, staring down at it with disdain as his Aspect Warriors emerged from the trees. Dire Avengers and Dark Reapers, the blue clad warriors of Asurmen standing at attention while the black wearing reapers of Maugan Ra watched silently. Dalmar wiped his power sword on the Ork's corpse and sheathed it, walking over to his lasblaster and retrieving it.

"Brothers and sisters, you know what we are here to do." Dalmar said. "For Biel-tan, we will slaughter every Greenskin and Mon-Keigh on this planet. Let us move to our next target, quickly." He said.


	14. Chapter 14

**Isphyda VI**

Orion and his squad trudged through the snow in the direction that the escape pod had come. Earlier, the _Unyielding _had received several urgent distress signals from dozens of escape pods. Many had been intercepted and taken onto the strike cruiser in orbit. A handful, like the one Orion was headed for now, had slipped past and landed on the surface. Thankfully, the snows had ceased and so visibility was not limited. They could see the smoking escape pod even from hundreds of meters away.

"There it is. Kain, stay here, keep an eye out for trouble. The rest of you, let's go." Orion said. Kain nodded and Orion set off down the snowbank for the escape pod. Surrounding the pod in a thirty meter radius was a circle of melted snow, the hot water mixing with the dirt to make muddy ground. However, that mud was already beginning to freeze as the pod cooled. Once they reached the pod, Orion examined it.

"These markings... It's from the _Hopeless Redoubt_. Get it open." Orion said. Willem and Yuri both complied, working at the hatch. It popped open with a hiss suddenly and from it, three Astartes stumbled out. They wore full armour and one was nursing a wound in his leg.

"What the... What happened?" Orion demanded from them. The injured one looked at him. Orion recognized the personal markings on his armour as Sergeant Tragun, from the 3rd company.

"We were chasing the Freebooters... In the outskirts of the system, we ran into a chaos fleet." Tragun said. "They boarded us, killed Captain Warren. I don't know what they're doing now." Tragun said. Orion's eyes widened.

"A chaos fleet? What?" Orion demanded.

"The Iron Warriors. A lot of them. We barely got away." Tragun said. Orion cursed.

"This is not good." Orion muttered. "How bad is your leg, can you walk?" He asked. Tragun shook his head.

"There's five autocannon shells in my leg and gut. The wounds closed over them. I can't walk." He said.

"Perfect. Wait a second, I'll contact the _Unyielding_." Orion instructed. He activated his vox caster. "_Unyielding_, this is sergeant Orion. We need a transport down here immediately, there's an injured brother who needs an apothecary." Orion said. There was a brief delay.

_"Negative, Sergeant. We're under fire, repeat, we are under fire."_

"What?" Orion hissed.

_"A fleet of chaos warships is attacking us, we can't-" _The signal cut off.

_"Sergeant, there's four drop pods coming down!" _Kain said over the vox. Orion looked up the snowbank at Kain and saw in the skies above four of the pods burning through the atmosphere not far from their location. Orion cursed.

"Hold position, Kain, we'll be right there." Orion instructed. He looked at Willem. "Help him walk." He said, indicating Tragun. Willem nodded and helped Tragun up. "Let's go to wherever those drop pods are landing, if the Iron Warriors are attacking this world, there's safety in numbers." As he said this, they set off, walking up the snowbank.

* * *

**Isphyda I  
**

Autarch Dalmar and his host trekked through the dense forest. A hundred aspect warriors of the Dire Avenger, Dark Reaper and Warp Spider aspects were with him, slaughtering any life they encountered. In addition, a farseer by the name of Menarys accompanied the host. It had been her insight that had led them to this world, for she had forseen that should the Orks on this world be allowed to live after receiving the technologies they had been given, they would threaten many nearby maiden worlds. Though Dalmar had no hatred for the humans on this world, he would kill them all to avoid their presence being known to the Imperium. Already they had annihilated entire villages that crossed their paths as Orks attacked them.

"Autarch, hold." Menarys said softly. Dalmar stopped walking and signaled for his host to do the same.

"What is it?" He asked.

"I sense the presence of others nearby. Humans. And the greenskins. They are hunting one-another." She told him.

"We should take cover in case they find us." Dalmar mused. She nodded.

"I concur. I can shield our presence in case they have any psykers with them." Menarys said.

"Then do it." Dalmar said. He commanded his host to take cover and then scrambled up a tree, his rifle at the ready as his eyes scanned the trees. In the distance, he could make out the hulking, black-armoured figures of the space marines that called this world home as they stalked through the forest. Not far from them, scores of greenskins also attempted stealth, though far less proficiently then the Astartes. They made an immense amount of noise and Dalmar thought it was a wonder the humans had not already found them. Or perhaps they had and were electing to remain out of sight. Dalmar did not know, humans were unpredictable beasts.

As he pondered this, his mind wandered before suddenly being brought back to reality by gunshots. The humans and greenskins had finally engaged in battle. It was a dreadfully one-sided affair, the guns and armour of the humans being far more potent than those of the Orks. The greenskins were torn to shreds in short order. The humans began fanning out and it occurred to Dalmar that as they had not called in any sort of extraction, it may not have been the Orks they were looking for. They were drawing closer. Dalmar readied his rifle as he saw many of the primitive guns of the humans being leveled at where Dalmar knew some of his host to be.

Dalmar opened fire from his position above the enemy, sending lasers through the trees at the Astartes as shuriken rounds ripped through trees, power armour and flesh. Warp Spiders teleported all around the humans and let loose with their Death Spinners, monofilament wires reducing the heavily armoured marines to bloody chunks of gore on the forest ground. Bolter fire rang out as the marines tried to defend themselves, though it was a futile struggle with only two Eldar being hit before the marines were all killed. Dalmar climbed down from the tree and walked over to inspect the carnage.

All of them had died, torn asunder by the advanced Eldar weapons. None of them had entered the thrice damned suspended animation that Dalmar knew some marines to fall into, causing them to bounce back from wounds that would have slaughtered any reasonable being with a thirst for vengeance against those who had put them in that state. Dalmar found space marines to be incredibly frustrating to battle. They were tougher than any, carried weapons that tore the slender and lithe Eldar bodies to ribbons and never died. But these ones had been quite cooperative with dying, which he was grateful for.

"Let us move on, there are still many more of the greenskins and mon'keigh to slay." Dalmar called. As Menarys retrieved the spirit stones from the two Eldar who had been killed, the host began to walk through the woods again.

* * *

**Isphyda I, Power Marines Fortress Monastery  
**

Yariel and Crau looked at the last few seconds of footage that had been transmitted by sergeant Avery. The squad walking through the trees, sighting several slender figures emerging before the footage cut off.

"Take it back. Just before it cuts out and pause it." Crau instructed. The serf nodded and did so. Crau frowned as he examined the figures in the trees. He sighed angrily.

"Eldar. No doubt about it." Yariel said. "I think those are Aspect Warriors, so we can't know which Craftworld they come from."

"Where they come from does not concern me. What they are doing on that planet and why they are slaughtering my marines does." Crau said.

_"Perhaps those men would have survived if you'd made sure Yariel sent out more than a squad to that forest." _The now familiar voice of the sorcerer whispered in his head. Crau ignored it with some difficulty.

"I agree. I suggest we dispatch the second company to that location immediately. We don't need these Eldar while we're trying to contain the greenskins." Yariel suggested.

"Yes, that sounds like a good..." Crau began but he trailed off when another serf rushed into the room, panting.

"M'lord, urgent news." The serf gasped.

"What?" Crau said. "Here I was thinking things couldn't get any worse, get it over with."

"The _Hopeless Redoubt _and _Unyielding _have been lost, m'lord. An Iron Warriors force is invading Isphyda VI." The serf said. Crau's expression remained neutral. Of course there would be more enemies in this fight. But the serf did not seem to be done.

"And also... A large amount of Orks recently appeared on Isphyda II. They're currently invading one of the hives and Governor-General Karling is requesting your aid." The serf continued.

"Really? Well, isn't that just brilliant." Crau said.

"Careful there, brother, that sarcasm is reminiscent of Orion." Yariel commented.

"Now isn't the time for jokes. Is there anything else to report?" Crau said. The serf nodded.

"Our sensors indicate that the Iron Warriors fleet is splitting off. Some of their ships are remaining in orbit of Isphyda VI but two groups have split off. Both have passed Isphyda V. One is nearing the fourth world in the system and the other seems to have set course for Isphyda III." The serf said.

"So every inhabited world in the system is under attack from somebody. Is there any word from the forces we've recalled?" Crau asked.

"Yes, m'lord. They're rendezvoused outside the system and are currently performing a Warp jump for Isphyda VI. They should be in place to beat back the attackers there within the week." The serf replied.

"Well, at least something is going our way... Isphyda II doesn't need our help, there is a significant enough PDF and Imperial Guard presence there to withstand the Orks that are there. Isphyda IV has a large Skitarii force stationed there to protect the interests of the forge-world, that should be able to hold out long enough for us to save Isphyda III and VI. Yariel, I want you to stay here. You've just got the first company and unlimited access to the armoury. Do what you can to defeat the Eldar. Keep an eye on the Reydrik Peninsula, I still want whichever Ork warlord that comes out on top to be killed. I'll take the second and third companies to Isphyda III and then Isphyda IV. With any luck, it'll be all I need." Crau said.

"I would request you leave a few more marines to me, Crau. The first is under-strength already from fighting the Orks, we can't-" Yariel began.

"It'll have to do, Yariel. I have a suspicion that I know where these Iron Warriors came from." Crau said. Yariel frowned.

"Where?" Yariel asked.

"Agora. Where else? No Warp Rifts have been opened and Warsmith Savanax has had his Grand Company stationed there ever since we failed to stop him from capturing it a century ago. Our most recent intelligence from there suggests he's finally replaced the losses he sustained in that battle, so if we've got a Grand Company at our doorstep, we'll need as many marines as we can use. And as many ships." Crau said. Yariel frowned.

"Alright. You say I'll have unrestricted access to the armoury, but..." He trailed off.

"Not to the parts I'll be taking with me, no. I need heavy armour for this." Crau said.

"Very well. At least leave me a land raider." Yariel requested. Crau nodded.

"Of course. Well, no time to waste. Until we next meet, brother." Crau said, stretching his right hand out. Yariel clasped it firmly.

"Until we next meet." He repeated. Crau looked at the serfs.

"I don't think we have the numbers to win this on our own. Get word to Ultramar. See if our progenitors are willing to help us." Crau instructed. They nodded and hurried off. Crau took a deep breath and then strode out of the room.

_"Many will die, you realize. So many innocents... No matter how successful you are, you will fail in your duty." _The voice whispered. Crau gritted his teeth and picked up his pace.

* * *

**Isphyda VI**

Dulenti looked around as he exited the transport, taking in the scenery of this world. It was very white, he noted. Not far, hidden behind a snowbank, he could make out the artillery of the legion, roaring as it sent a sustained bombardment at the large, medieval city two kilometers away. Dulenti had been given command of two hundred marines in Savanax's Grand Company. Of those marines, approximately half were loyal to him, the other half to Savanax. When drawing up battle-plans, he made sure that those loyal to Savanax would be on the front line alongside the thousands of cultists from Agora.

A sustained orbital bombardment of every major city on the planet had been carried out and now, they were laying siege to one of many cities which had refused to surrender. He was surprised this city still held out. First an orbital bombardment, then heavy carpet bombing from Iron Warriors aircraft and now it was under fire from static artillery emplacements while Iron Warriors construction personnel set up walls and barricades. Since he had offered his services to Savanax after being exiled from the Thousand Sons, Dulenti still was unused to the Iron Warriors way of war, though he certainly admired its efficiency. These lapdogs of the Emperor, however, were particularly stubborn. A squad of Iron Warriors approached Dulenti.

"Sorcerer, the bulk of our ground forces are in place and the city's defenses are ruin. Now would be an ideal time to strike." The sergeant of the squad said. Dulenti nodded.

"Yes, it is. You know the plan. The assault begins now." Dulenti commanded. The squad turned and rushed off as they relayed his commands and readied their guns. From Dulenti's experience with the Iron Warriors, the battle would be over within the hour. A loud cheer went up from the mass of cultists as they received the order to attack and they swarmed down the hills for the city in the distance as the artillery bombardment continued. A hundred Chaos Space Marines accompanied them and Dulenti watched from the landing zone as it was fortified, happily taking in the carnage from afar. While he waited, he thought perhaps he might taunt the Power Marines chapter master some more, but then decided against it. He would need to be alert in case any unexpected changes happened in the battle.

He needn't have bother, however. The city was taken in short order with few casualties. This disappointed Dulenti somewhat, but he did not mind. There would no doubt be a force of Power Marines arriving at the planet soon and Dulenti imagined that when they arrived, he would need to be back in orbit to make a hasty getaway.

* * *

**Isphyda IV  
**

Savanax cut down the Skitarii warrior with one stroke from his axe, volkite rounds fizzling against his tactical dreadnought armour as he plowed through the ranks of the forces that had been arrayed at the large platform to defend it. Hundreds of bolters rang out as they gunned down the Skitarii opposition and bombers flew overhead, blowing apart the artillery emplacements set up by the Adeptus Mechanicus to defend their world. Ahead of him, the landing platform stretched out for hundreds of meters and hundreds of Skitarii forces were scattered across it to oppose him, some in cover, some out in the open. Savanax laughed madly as he barreled forward, invulnerable to the fire that was directed at him. He smashed into a Skitarii Ranger squad, their Galvanic Rifles having little effect on him as he beheaded one, bisected another and rejoiced in the slaughter of the rest of the squad. Truly, Savanax never felt more alive than when making others less so.

"Iron Within, Iron Without!" He roared as he split the final Ranger in the squad in half. He looked around the battlefield and saw a squad of Skitarii Vanguard in cover, their flashy red robes and numerous cybernetic implants sticking out like a sore thumb next to the large metal boxes they hid behind. He also noticed three of them carried Plasma Calivers. This, he did not approve of. He charged at them, making as little noise as possible so as to avoid drawing attention to himself. He failed and the pounding of his boots on the floor alerted them to his presence immediately. Radium Carbines and Plasma Calivers trained on him but before they could fire, he smashed shoulder-first into one, sending the wounded Skitarii flying as he lashed out with his axe, cleaving through the cybernetically enhanced chest cavity of one and beheading another in the same swing. Warnings on his HUD flashed, indicating high levels of radiation, but he ignored these as he ripped apart his foe, their feeble attempts at resistance meaning little to his armour.

As he tore them asunder, his forces pushed forward, driving the Skitarii closer to the edge of the platform. If they were forced much further back, they would fall hundreds of meters into the mountains below. To the right of Savanax, the wall to the massive aerial complex the landing platform was attached to was located and the Iron Warriors moved to secure it. The battle was going favourably and as Savanax finished off the last of the squad of Vanguard, he pointed his axe at the remaining Skitarii on the platform.

"FORWARD, BROTHERS! BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!" He roared. "IRON WITHIN, IRON WITHOUT!"

"IRON WITHIN, IRON WITHOUT!" They echoed, pressing forward with renewed vigour. The Skitarii were gunned down in the dozens and as Savanax reached their line, he smashed into a large squad of Rangers, knocking them aside in a manner not unlike an ancient Terran game known as 'bowling'. Those few he hadn't knocked down fell in short order to his axe and so too did those who had been knocked over not long after. The last member of the squad was beaten about the face with the flat of his axe and sent flying over the edge of the platform, plummeting to the mountains below and breaking to thousands of bloody pieces on the rocks when he landed. The Iron Warriors pushed forward, shoving the remaining Skitarii over the edge without mercy and watching with glee as they fell thousands of meters.

The battle was won, leaving the Iron Warriors a place on the world to strike out at various key targets from. It also contained many vehicles which they would seize and re-purpose for their own needs. Savanax took a moment to catch his breath, smiling as he thought of the bloody tally he had reaped that day.

* * *

**Isphyda VI  
**

Orion lay prone on the large mound of snow overlooking the city below as the Iron Warriors set upon it like crows to a carcass. He watched with disgust. After a while, he scowled and rose to his feet, walking down the mound to join his brothers below.

"There's nothing we can do for them. Apothecary Radri, how are you faring?" Orion asked. The white-armoured space marine looked up.

"Very well. It's difficult given the fact that his wounds sealed over the shells, but I've managed to extract them and he should be able to walk again soon." Radri said.

"Good. Hey, I don't suppose you brought any spare guns with you on your way down from the _Unyielding_?" Tragun asked. Radri shook his head. Tragun sighed.

"Just my luck, stuck with a pistol and a sword... What are we going to do? There's a whole army of them, there's thirty of us." He said. The numerous space marines around them all shrugged and looked to Orion, waiting for him to say something. Orion scowled.

"Well, we're not going to fight them out in the open, that's for damn sure. But... If we can maybe find some places to hide, important places, we can ambush some of them. It'd be easier to get the element of surprise with bikes, or with armour that blended in... I wonder if we could find any white paint." Orion said. Tragun recoiled at this suggestion.

"Paint our armour white, you mean? But there's a reason we wear black. We take pride in our chapter's colours, it would be... Disrespectful to paint over it." Tragun objected.

"Shut up. It was a thought, we don't have any paint anyway." Orion said. "Perhaps if we waited for nightfall, we could sneak up on their landing zone, kill a few of them and slip out undetected."

"That would be a good idea, though these are Iron Warriors we're dealing with. They're probably more heavily entrenched than the Imperial Guard on Cadia, it may be difficult to infiltrate such a position." Radri pointed out. Orion pondered this for a moment and then shrugged.

"I suppose there's only one way to find out. Either way, we might as well do our duty by the Emperor. As far as we know, no help is coming. It's just us. Tragun, get up, see if you can walk." Orion commanded. Tragun slowly rose unsteadily to his feet and stood shakily for several seconds before taking a step. Then another.

"I think I'll manage." Tragun finally said.

"That'll be good enough. Let's move out." Orion said. The marines readied their weapons and began moving through the snow.

* * *

Dulenti sat on a chair in the center of the landing zone, sipping at a warm drink as he listened to the bustle of various construction personnel fortifying the landing zone even further. Far away, he knew that the Iron Warriors in the city would be rounding up the populace for sacrifice. Whether or not they held the city was irrelevant, it would be devoid of all life soon enough and then they would move on to the next city to give it the same treatment.

Suddenly, he was drawn out of his thoughts by a loud commotion not far from him. He frowned and set his drink down, rising to his feet and wondering what was making this noise in the dead of night. Cultists and Iron Warriors scrambled for their weapons while construction personnel streamed away from whatever was happening and Dulenti could make out the sound of bolter fire. He rolled his eyes. This would be the marines that had escaped from the ship in orbit, no doubt.

"Alright, Iron Within, Iron Without, all that. You know the drill, kill them all." Dulenti called lazily as dozens of marines raced for the source of the commotion. He strolled after them as if he were taking a walk, not headed for a fight. In the distance, he could make out dozens of Iron Warriors engaged in a firefight with somebody in the distance. Dulenti could not make out how many there were but he imagined they were not attacking in great numbers. He sighed, raised his hand and summoned his staff before running for the firefight. When he reached the line of Iron Warriors, the firefight had ended, the enemy had slipped away. He frowned, looking around. There were several bodies littering the ground, but the enemy was gone.

"Well, that's just rude." Dulenti said.

"What do we do, Sorcerer?" An Iron Warrior asked uncertainly.

"Find them. Kill them, bring me their heads." Dulenti commanded irritably, turning and heading back for where he had left his drink.


	15. Chapter 15

**Isphyda III Orbit**

Three _Hades_-class heavy cruisers of the Iron Warriors legion hung in orbit over Isphyda III, having arrived three hours prior. Since then, it had provided orbital support for the two hundred Iron Warriors landed on the surface to terrorize the population. Since there were no major settlements on this world, the usual Iron Warrior tactic of orbital bombardment followed by mass assault would be ineffective and so, the cruisers instead fired at individual targets whenever required by the spread out ground forces.

Far away, from the first world in the system, the fleet in orbit departed, a battle barge and six strike cruisers setting course for the third world in the system, where the _Hades _cruisers lay. The trip took a very long time, the fast strike cruisers going slower than they normally would to avoid outpacing the ponderous and enormous flagship of the fleet, the battle barge _Armageddon_.

After a few hours, the _Hades _cruisers picked up the approaching fleet on their close-range sensors. Immediately, they turned about, the dual lance banks on their fronts facing the approaching fleet. They trained these lances on the largest ship that approached, firing intense beams of energy that could punch through the hull of many an Imperial Navy vessel with consummate ease. However, their choice of target was a fatal mistake, for Astartes Battle Barges are not like most ships in the Imperium, each one built with the capability of withstanding constant heavy fire for the duration of entire campaigns as they hung in orbit of worlds the Astartes assaulted so as to provide constant fire support. It was not unheard of for Battle Barges to withstand more punishment in a single campaign than most Imperial Navy ships could sustain in their entire line of service.

As such, the lances did little noticeable damage to the _Armageddon _and the time wasted in shooting it allowed the strike cruisers to speed up and close into weapons range. Each strike cruiser immediately launched a pair of melta torpedoes as the _Hades_ cruisers prepared to fire with their lances again, the torpedoes closed the gap between the vessels and nine of the dozen shots landed, four hitting the middle cruiser, two hitting the one to the right of it and three smashing into the one to the left. The middle cruiser was severely damaged by this barrage, its hull ripped apart in several places and blazes set within the ship. The vacuum of space quickly put out these blazes but the damage had been done, enormous holes ripped in the body of the middle cruiser, thousands of bodies spilling out of these, screaming silent screams as they froze to death and were pulled into the gravity of Isphyda III, floating in space, where they would likely remain until the day the Isphyda Star went supernova.

The other two ships were damaged similarly though not as badly and they were able to power up their lance banks, sending several shots through one strike cruiser and ripping massive holes in it. That strike cruiser stood little chance and its nose began to point towards the planet below as its systems failed and it was pulled into the gravity well of the desert world, slowly falling as the ship died. However, the strike cruisers too had lances and they let loose, tearing asunder the side ships. Finally, the strike cruisers turned their attention to the middle ship again as while it had been heavily damaged by the torpedoes, it had not been entirely destroyed and its weapon batteries powered up, sending intense laser fire at the Power Marine ships. They responded by turning their broadside plasma batteries to face the final _Hades _heavy cruiser and soon, it was a twisted lump of melted and jagged metal with tens of thousands of bodies pouring from it.

After a short firefight and without the need for boarding, the battle for the orbit of Isphyda III and been won.

* * *

**Isphyda III  
**

Aspiring Champion Dykos stalked the desert with his small detachment of Iron Warriors, gun ready for any sign of human life. His men spread out behind him, just as alert as they hunted the area around the village they had just massacred. His eyes scanned his surroundings, ignoring the harsh red sands and watching attentively for movement. Suddenly, one of his marines cried out.

"Champion, look!" The Iron Warrior yelled, pointing at the sky. Dykos looked up and saw an enormous black vessel falling slowly through the atmosphere, coated in flames as it shot for the ground. It was a space marine strike cruiser. Dykos laughed.

"Ah, the lapdogs of the False Emperor fall before our might! Wonderful!" He said. Then, he frowned upon noticing more falling with the strike cruiser. Hundreds of fragments of other ships raining down in fire, some landing dangerously close and falling far faster than the ship. And more than that, too. Bodies burning up from re-entry, raining down. And far above, he could make out the frame of a _Hades _heavy cruiser in ruins as it entered the upper atmosphere. Alongside it he could see the faint, distant shapes of half a dozen vessels in orbit.

"Champion Dykos, drop pods!" Another Iron Warrior cried all of a sudden. Dykos could see it too, the ships in orbit launching dozens of the tiny fiery specks that delivered the Angels of Death onto whomever might be unfortunate enough to fall within their path. They shot in many directions, most of them where Dykos knew other detachments of Iron Warriors to be located at. And, to his horror, several seemed to be bound straight for his forces.

"SPREAD OUT, TAKE COVER, PREPARE FOR ORBITAL DROP!" Dykos screeched as he scrambled to find cover in the empty desert as the drop pods raced for him. His men scattered in fear and desperation and suddenly, a shadow appeared over Dykos. He looked up to see a black shape above him glowing with flames.

"Oh, by Khorne..." He murmured, dropping his bolter. These were the last words Dykos uttered as the drop pod smashed into him, crushing the Aspiring Champion underneath it and grinding him to blood and pulp underneath the transport.

* * *

Crau leaped from the drop pod he had waited in as it rocketed for the sands below the second the doors opened. He did not notice the blood or chunks of armour and flesh around it, instead opening fire with his bolt pistol at the Iron Warriors around the pod as he raced forward, his power sword lashing at the air as the squad of tactical marines from the third company opened fire on them.

"For the Emperor!" He yelled, sprinting for an Iron Warrior and relieving him of the burden of his head. Without missing a beat, Crau leaped for the next Iron Warrior that stood a few feet away, running him through before the heretic could react. Then, as Crau withdrew his sword, he fired several shots into the backpack of another chaos space marine, the shells detonating within and ripping apart the device that powered his armour. The Iron Warriors began to fire back, a handful of bolter rounds bouncing off of Crau's artificer armour and fewer of them killing some of the space marines Crau had brought with him. Crau ignored the return fire, rushing a group of three Iron Warriors and neatly bisecting one with his power sword. He impaled the second through the skull before twisting his sword around, cutting it out of the head of the dead marine and cleaving through the skull of the third Iron Warrior in the same stroke. Within a second of each-other, the dead Iron Warriors fell to the ground with a satisfying thud and Crau moved onto the next opponents.

In short order, all the Iron Warriors in the area were dead, a score of corpses lying mutilated in the sand. A handful of the Power Marines also lay dead, but not enough to have made the firefight a costly one. One tactical marine approached Crau.

"What should we do with the bodies? Burn them, perhaps?" The tactical marine asked. Crau looked at him with a look of utter bewilderment that was invisible behind his helmet.

"How long have you been a space marine? By the Emperor, man, we do not burn the bodies of our enemies in the middle of a battle. Leave them, the lions have to eat too." Crau said. "Let's go." He added. With haste, they departed their landing zone, twenty-four space marines moving away from the three drop pods they had arrived in.

They moved about the desert, guided by the sensors of the fleet in orbit, headed for Iron Warriors wherever they might be found. Multiple such kill teams hunted the traitors simultaneously across the surface of the planet, mercilessly eliminating any opposition they discovered whilst the ships in orbit provided fire support when needed. After two more engagements with Iron Warrior groups, Crau's vox receiver beeped.

_"Chapter Master, our sensors indicate that all Iron Warriors on this planet have been eliminated."_ Came the voice of Captain Helios.

"That was easy." Crau noted.

_"I doubt the battle on Isphyda IV and VI will be nearly as easy, the Iron Warriors are unlikely to be as spread out as they were here." _Helios responded.

"Yes, because this planet does not have any settlements large enough to warrant a massed group of enemies. Send transports down, we might as well get moving." Crau said.

_"Right away, brother." _Helios said.

* * *

**Isphyda VI Orbit**

Dulenti strode briskly off of the boarding ramp on the transport he had just flown back up to the fleet on. After a warning from Tierra and his own psychic powers detecting an approaching fleet from the Warp, he had opted to return to orbit along with all of the Iron Warriors loyal to him while those loyal to Savanax remained on the surface, carrying out their mission without realizing the danger in store for them.

True to his premonitions and the warnings of the Warpblazer, he detected several warp rifts suddenly opening nearby and then closing. Not a moment later, the vox receiver in his helmet beeped.

_"Sorcerer, several Astartes vessels have just emerged from the Warp!" _A voice cried.

"How many?" Dulenti asked calmly as he began striding from the hangar.

_"Four strike cruisers. If we make a stand, we can damage them and prevent the ground forces from-" _The voice said.

"That won't be necessary." Dulenti interrupted. "We have more pressing matters to attend to. Make for the fourth world in the system."

_"But some of our ships are already there!"_

"Exactly. There is safety in numbers. Get moving before the loyalists get within range." Dulenti commanded. There was no response but from the way the ship suddenly lurched, Dulenti knew that his orders were being carried out. He continued heading for the bridge.

* * *

**Isphyda VI**

Orion stood on the hilltop overlooking the Iron Warriors as they assaulted yet another city. He and his brothers had been following the Iron Warriors in their advance since it had begun, carrying out occasional raids in an attempt to weaken the enemy somewhat. Earlier, Orion had noticed several transports departing with a large portion of the enemy army. He glanced behind him as he heard footsteps and saw Tragun.

"What is it?" Orion asked.

"You've been standing on this hill for an hour. Don't you think they might see you if you stay there for too long?" Tragun asked. Orion scoffed.

"They aren't looking. Besides, if they do see us, we'll be out of here before any of them can reach this position." Orion replied.

"I'm less worried about a force of Iron Warriors approaching us and more concerned about their artillery." Tragun responded.

"Don't be. Their artillery is incredibly inaccurate, we have nothing to fear." Orion said.

"You're being uncharacteristically careless, Orion." Tragun said. "Why are you standing here?"

"I'm assessing them. If I'm right, about half of them left on those transports a few hours ago. I don't know if they'll return or not, but now is the perfect time to attack. While they're weak." Orion said.

"So why aren't we attacking yet?" Tragun inquired.

"I'm trying to figure out where the best place to strike would be. This would be a lot easier without you prattling on." Orion snapped.

"Alright, alright, calm down. I'm going." Tragun said.

"Good." Was all Orion deigned to reply with, instead allowing the younger space marine to depart. Orion gazed intently at the army of Iron Warriors and noticed that not far from his position, a squad of Iron Warriors accompanied a predator tank. This group was quite distant from the rest of the army and, with the element of surprise, could likely be dispatched with haste. After a moment's hesitation, Orion decided that would be where they struck. He turned and strode down the hill to the gathering of Power Marines. By this stage, after several raids on the Iron Warriors, their numbers had dwindled to just a dozen marines. Orion, Tragun, Radri, Yuri, Willem and seven tactical marines. It was not much, but it would have to do.

After a lengthy trek down the snowy hills, they found themselves hiding behind a large, rocky outcrop dusted with snow as the Iron Warriors passed by. The target Orion had selected was only a dozen meters away.

"Yuri, Willem, get in with the melta charges while the rest of us draw their fire." Orion whispered. He made sure his bolter was loaded and nodded to the rest of the group. After a brief moment, he took a deep breath and ran out into the open.

"FOR THE EMPEROR!" He roared as he unleashed a torrent of bolter fire at the shocked Iron Warriors. Tragun, Radri and the seven tactical marines followed, screaming litanies of hate at the enemy while they let loose with holy bolter fire. In Orion's peripheral vision, he could see Yuri and Willem sneaking around and this made him double his efforts. To the left of him, he saw two tactical marines gunned down as he blew the brains out of an Iron Warrior. Then, suddenly, the Iron Warriors seemed to notice the two scout marines that were sneaking around them. There was a commotion as they aimed their bolters.

"Retreat!" Orion yelled, but they did not listen. Yuri and Willem screamed one last battlecry professing that they indeed fought for the Emperor before charging. Within seconds, they were mercilessly cut down by the autocannon of a predator tank and several boltguns. Orion was about to give the order to retreat a second time before the air was driven out of him as a bolter round ripped through his breastplate. His legs gave out under him and he waited tensely for the detonation that he knew would end his life. But, as he hit the ground and blood squirted out of the large hole torn in his chest, nothing happened. He realized that the shell in that bolter round must have been a dud. A one in a million chance that had saved his life. His vision began to darken as he knew he would not remain conscious for much longer. The last thing he saw before blacking out was Tragun being shot through the gut and the rest of the tactical marines being shot to death. In the sky above, he thought he could make out some faint, fiery specks, but he did not have long to ponder this as he passed out.

* * *

When Orion awoke, he found himself in a medical ward. From the looks of it, he was aboard a strike cruiser. He sat up and grunted as pain shot through his body, originating from his chest. He remembered being shot and felt the wound. It was closed and from the scar tissue around it, he had been operated on, no doubt to remove the bolter round. He looked around, wondering how he had gotten up here. Then, he saw, a few beds away, Tragun lying unconscious. The door slid open and two apothecaries walked in. One was Radri and the other, Orion did not know.

"What happened?" Orion asked. Radri shrugged.

"We wasted the lives of our brothers, how's that?" Radri said. Orion frowned.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Four strike cruisers came just as we were attacking that predator. Just as we were all getting slaughtered, drop pods came in. You, Tragun and I are the only ones who survived. But Tragun's in pretty bad shape." Radri said.

"It wasn't a waste, we couldn't have known that the strike cruisers were arriving." Orion protested.

"That doesn't make those deaths any less in vain. It just means that I can't blame you." Radri said. Orion scoffed. The other apothecary stepped in between them.

"I'm going to stop things right here before you say something that will make an apothecary assault an injured space marine." The apothecary said sternly. Orion scowled but then shrugged, his expression softening.

"That's fair enough, I suppose. So, did we win the battle, at least?" Orion inquired.

"If we'd lost, I doubt we would still be alive." Radri interjected. "Chapter Master Crau also dealt with the Iron Warriors on Isphyda III."

"There were Iron Warriors on Isphyda III as well?" Orion said. The second apothecary nodded.

"Apparently. There's also a large amount attacking Isphyda IV. The Chapter Master is instructing our two fleets rendezvous before attacking their fleet there, he thinks we'll need our entire number to drive them off." He explained.

"That's probably wise. I'll go to the armoury, get some better equipment for when the time comes." Orion said.

"You'll do no such thing. Your primary heart was destroyed by the bolter round that somehow failed to detonate. We've replaced it with a cloned one, but you're in no position to do any fighting for quite some time while your body recovers. Being shot in the heart isn't something a human can easily recover from, even the Adeptus Astartes." The second apothecary said.

"Our home system is under attack, you cannot expect me to sit it out." Orion protested.

"I can and I will." The apothecary said. "Lie back down, get comfortable, the ship is going to be shaking a lot soon." Orion scowled and did as instructed, lying back and closing his eyes as the sounds of the two apothecaries moving about the room met his ears.

* * *

**Isphyda IV Orbit  
**

Ten _Hades _class heavy cruisers hung in orbit of the fourth world in the Isphyda system alongside a _Retaliator _class Grand Cruiser and the recently converted strike cruiser _Hopeless Redoubt_. When their sensors picked up an approaching fleet of nine strike cruisers and a battle barge, they turned about, powering up their long range lance banks. The _Retaliator _Grand Cruiser, known as the_ Steel Bastion_, powered up its macrocannon batteries and launched dozens of _Swiftdeath _fighters. As one, the fleet let loose with their lances, punching many holes in the approaching ships. As the Astartes fleet closed the gap between the two, the Iron Warriors let loose another barrage and another, the third also seeing the fighters swarming for the approaching fighters. Though two strike cruisers slowed to a halt as they were ravaged by the lances, the rest pushed on, their point defense plasma batteries tearing asunder many fighters. The strike cruisers slowly fell behind the _Armageddon_ as it plowed on, oblivious to the massed amounts of fire it sustained and opening fire with its own torpedoes. However, it was still too far for the torpedoes to be effective. Nonetheless, it pressed on and soon, the entire Iron Warriors fleet focused fire, missiles, lances and macrocannons opening up on the enormous space marine ship.

Despite the immense torrent of fire that hammered into it, the _Armageddon_ pressed on, seemingly untouched as multiple enormous holes were torn in its hull, the vacuum of space pulling thousands of silently screaming chapter serfs into the void as the ship continued pressing on. Now, the Iron Warriors continued firing almost in desperation and soon, the _Armageddon _pulled up alongside the _Steel Bastion_ while the strike cruisers behind mopped up the last of the _Swiftdeath _fighters and sped up to deliver plasma fire onto the _Hades _cruisers.

As the _Steel Bastion_ let loose with all the power of its broadside macrocannon batteries, the _Armageddon_ was forced back hundreds of meters. But, nonetheless, the _Armageddon _remained still as its torpedo tubes opened. Moments later, a dozen boarding torpedoes shot from the mighty ship, each and every one punching through the hull of the _Steel Bastion_.

* * *

Crau stood on the Boarding Torpedo as it was fired, accompanied by ten honour guard. When the torpedo was fired, many stumbled but he stood still, already mustering all his strength as pain shot through his chest.

_"It's futile, you know." _Came the now familiar voice of the sorcerer. Crau gritted his teeth. _"No matter how many you kill in this boarding mission, the damage has been done, hundreds of thousands are already dead. How many have you saved in your years as a space marine? Millions, I imagine. How many more, however, have you failed to save? Agora, Vypris, your two greatest defeats. How many did the Warsmith kill, how many more did he turn to chaos? When Ivan died and your ship ran with its tail between its legs, what do you think the Black Legion did to the world you had just saved? What do you think they did after? They weren't there for that backwater, that's for certain, they attacked an Imperial system. Surely, you've heard of the Grael Incident. Millions died. Surely you could have made that number smaller if you'd stayed, if you hadn't fled like a coward?"_

"Shut up." Crau whispered. He did not turn off his vox, forgetting to and not caring. The Honour Guard all looked at him uncertainly. The voice stopped and then the room shook violently as the torpedo punched through the hull of the enemy ship. The hatch at the front opened and Crau drew his power sword and bolt pistol.

"For the Emperor!" He yelled, running out of the hatch and opening fire at the dozens of heretics in the room that looked at him in horror. He ran to one and split the unfortunate man in half from head to foot as his Honour Guard fanned out and mercilessly cut down the cultists. Within a minute, the room had been cleared and without delaying, Crau led his Honour Guard out the door. He glanced at a sign on the corridor. There was an arrow pointing down the corridor and said STARBOARD MACROBATTERY BAY FOUR. They ran down that corridor, bursting through the door into a wide hall filled with cultists toiling. On the far side of the room, an enormous gun was in the process of being loaded by dozens of sweaty hands. It bucked wildly as it fired and then, before it could be loaded again, Crau opened fire and ran forward, swinging his sword left and right and filling the air with a flurry of gore. Screams filled the hall as he and his Honour Guard slaughtered without mercy, cutting down cultists by the score each minute.

The cultists did not try to resist, fleeing only to be shot down. When the room was nearly devoid of life, doors on the left side sprung open and forty Iron Warriors streamed into the room, opening fire with bolters and autocannons at Crau and his Honour Guard. The bolter rounds bounced off or detonated on the surface of the Artificer Armour worn by them all and Crau led a charge. They smashed into the disciplined ranks of the Iron Warriors, Crau lashing out with his power sword, striking a head off here, gutting an enemy there, slashing about in an orgy of carnage. He was a whirlwind, ignoring the agony that spread through his chest as he reaped a bloody tally amongst the Iron Warriors with his Honour Guard aiding him. In short order, the Iron Warriors were all dead and he and his Honour Guard stood alone in a room drenched in gore. Blood stained the walls and formed pools on the ground as hundreds of eviscerated corpses lay still or twitching. The Honour Guard fanned out and killed the dying whilst stepping over the already dead. As they did this, Crau approached the macrocannon and detached the melta charges he carried on his belt, attaching them to ensure that this gun would never fire again. When the charges were firmly fixed in place, he turned to the Honour Guard. Their once black armour was now red, crimson completely coating even the brightest of gear and assorted bling on them.

"Let's go, brothers, the other teams will take the rest of their guns. We make for the engine room." Crau instructed. They nodded and voiced their affirmations.

_"Oh, the hypocrisy of you loyalists. Look around you, the slaughter. You call us savages yet you yourself take part in the bloodiest slaughter of all, slaughtering hundreds just to silence a single gun. Take one look at all these bodies, the blood. Does this look so different from the aftermath of a squad of Khorne Berserkers set upon Imperial citizens? The only difference is the eight-pointed star and the skull of the Iron Warriors instead of Imperial Aquilas. How many times have you done this? Doesn't this make you wonder if your brothers are so different from mine?" _The voice whispered. Crau made sure his vox was turned off and then spoke.

"I will find you and feed you your own lungs, heretic." Crau growled. He heard a faint laugh.

_"Oh, I'm sure you will. If the rot doesn't spread to yours first, of course."_ And with that, the voice faded.

* * *

**Author's Note: Hey, all, sorry for the lateness. I don't have any excuses for this one, I just didn't get the chapter done on time. My apologies, I'll endeavour to make sure that the next chapter isn't late. In any case, be sure to leave a review, let me know what you guys think. Thanks for reading.  
**


	16. Chapter 16

**Isphyda IV Orbit, ****_Steel Bastion_**

Crau and his Honour Guard rampaged through the decks of the Iron Warriors vessel as they made for the engines, slaughtering indiscriminately. The vox was abuzz with the other Astartes who had boarded the craft as they swept through the gun decks, silencing macrobatteries one by one. Soon, Crau and his Honour Guard reached the engine rooms and swiftly dispatched the heretics without mercy. After a brief, bloody engagement, the primary engine room was cleared of the Iron Warriors cultists. The Honour Guard set about planting melta charges at key points along the interior of the engines. After a minute, all the charges were in place and primed for detonation.

"Let's get a safe distance away, now." Crau instructed. They nodded and began filing out of the corpse-strewn room. When they were all safely out, Crau remotely detonated the charges, ripping the engines of the vessel asunder and crippling it. As the explosions died down, the vox came alive as the squads aboard the ship confirmed that they had disabled the last of the weapons batteries aboard. He voxed Captain Helios aboard the _Armageddon_.

"Captain, what is the situation with the rest of their fleet?" He demanded.

_"We've boarded two more of their ships and captured them. The rest of their fleet have moved out of weapons range. They're heading to the other side of the planet, should we pursue?" _Helios replied.

"No. Leave them for now, we need to focus our manpower on clearing out the forge world. This is going to be bloody, we can't afford to waste more men on boarding operations until we've won on the ground." Crau replied, glancing at his retinue momentarily.

_"As you wish. I'll send transports to pick you up so we can commence drop pod assault." _Helios replied.

"Very well, we'll be in the main hangar." He replied. There was no response and after stopping a moment as pain lanced through his chest, he sighed and set off, his Honour Guard in tow.

* * *

**Isphyda I, Southern Reydrik Peninsula  
**

Yariel watched from the ramp of the hovering thunderhawk gunship as thousands of Orks clashed with one-another in the plains below. Two massive hordes led by two enormous Warbosses fighting over ultimate dominance of the peninsula. Above, the first company stood on transports, watching, waiting like carrion birds to swoop down on the weakened victor. A handful of shots were inevitably directed up at the thunderhawks but none were able to bring down any transports.

From what Yariel could observe, one of the Ork forces was far larger but consisted mostly of infantry armed with sluggas and shootas while the other force was smaller but had heavier guns and a handful of what looked to be looted leman russ battle tanks. Yariel did not know where they had gotten them from, nor did he wish to know. It looked as if the more mechanized force was winning, blowing apart hundreds of the comparatively squishy Ork boyz. Unless some miracle of fate occurred, the winner was clear.

Then, suddenly, the two armies parted as two massive Orks moved forth to meet one-another. The battle raged on yet they had a space cleared for them in the midst of it. One of them was tall and carried an enormous iron hammer with numerous shards of metal and blades sticking out of its head, this one was the leader of the infantry-heavy army. The other one was smaller and more heavily armoured. His lower jaw had been replaced with a metal gob with several sharp steel teeth jutting upwards from it. He was clad in heavy armour, numerous plates of metal cobbled together to protect him. A large, primitive contraption was strapped to his back and a small bubble of golden energy surrounded the Ork. In his arms, he carried a hefty shoota with a long belt of ammunition extending from it. Even from up in his vantage point, Yariel could hear the cry that followed their brief moment of standing and staring at each-other.

"WAAAAGH!" The two screamed together. The larger Ork charged forth as the smaller one deployed his shoota and send a hail of bullets spraying at the larger greenskin. Most of them were completely off their mark but a handful tore into the abdomen of the larger Ork, sending blood spraying onto the ground. Undeterred, he kept charging, bellowing something incomprehensible at the top of his lungs. He reached the smaller Ork, smashing his hammer into him with gusto. The bubble of energy slowed the strike somewhat but it still made a violent impact into the shoulder of the smaller Ork, buckling armour and no doubt shattering several bones.

The smaller Ork screeched in agony as he staggered backwards and delivered a torrent of bullets which all ripped right through the larger Ork, creating holes through his front and back and painting the ground with red. The larger greenskin scowled and gripped his hammer tightly, smashing it into the skull of the smaller Ork. A long, sharp blade impaled the head of the Ork, the point jutting out of his chin momentarily before the head was turned to pulp by the hammer. The smaller Ork fell to the ground, his head in ruins. The larger one raised his hands in the air and bellowed the cry of his race triumphantly. The fighting gradually began to cease as the Orks realized that now, there was only one warboss left in the Reydrik peninsula. Then, they began crying out in exultation, crying out the name of this Ork.

Yariel activated his vox and gave the order to attack.

Thunderhawks swooped down, disgorging squads of Sternguard veterans who unleashed a hail of bolter fire as other transports let loose the Vanguard Veteran squads, who set about tearing through the Orks with cold, calculated and brutal efficiency. Thunderhawks provided fire support from the air as more came down, dropping Predator and Vindicator tanks which joined in the slaughter, blowing apart Orks by the score and ripping apart their tanks.

Yariel himself led a squad of Vanguard Veterans through a mob of Orks, swinging his thunder hammer left and right and sending shockwaves of energy that ripped the greenskins to ribbons as he and his squad made a beeline for the Warboss. They viciously cut down those that escaped the wrath of Yariel's thunder hammer and soon, he had a clear line to the Warboss.

"For the Emperor!" He yelled, sprinting at the gigantic, wounded Ork.

"Waaagh!" He yelled back, running at Yariel with a fury belying the numerous holes that had been punched in his gut. When they were meters apart, the Ork leaped into the air, swinging his own hammer downwards as Yariel smashed his own hammer into the ground, flinging dirt up and sending a powerful shockwave through the ground, shattering it and flinging the Ork upwards like a ragdoll. The Ork crashed into the ruined ground a moment later, landing hard on his back. Blood squirted out of the holes as the Ork gasped and roared in anger. Before he could rise to his feet, Yariel ran forward and brought the hammer down mercilessly on the head of the Ork, leaving little in tact as the shockwave turned the upper body of the greenskin into a fine red mist. He looked around and saw that the Orks were beginning to rout as they were cut to pieces by his forces. Then, he frowned as in the hills by the plains they were in, he saw something.

* * *

From their vantage point above the battlefield below, the Autarch Dalmar could see the events unfolding below quite clearly. Two Ork armies clashing in the plains and then several Mon'Keigh ships arrived to hover over the battlefield. Then, the two leaders of the hordes met in the middle of the battlefield, the larger one triumphing in short order. Then, as the Orks celebrated, the Space Marines descended, slaughtering them. Dalmar could see in the middle the leader of the Space Marines meeting the Ork Warboss and dispatching him as quickly as he had killed the other Warboss.

"Well, we might as well move on. I would prefer to wait until as many Orks are dead as possible before we kill too many Mon'Keigh." Dalmar said. Menarys approached and looked at him, the blonde Farseer frowning.

"Perhaps..." She said.

"Something bothers you?" Dalmar asked. She nodded.

"I can feel something... Fighting going on in other worlds in this system. The Chapter Master of these Mon'Keigh, he is haunted by... Something." She said. He frowned.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I do not know. I think... I think the Forces of Chaos might be at work here. And... I am beginning to doubt my visions. My sight is clouded by something. All I can be sure of is that there is a plot being carried out as we speak." Menarys said.

"What kind of plot?" Dalmar asked. She shrugged.

"I do not know. I... I will meditate on my visions and see if I can make sense of it." She told him.

"Very well. Meditate for as long as possible." He said. "Before-" Then, suddenly, her eyes widened as the sounds of jump packs screaming split the air. Dalmar whipped around to stare down the shaft of a thunder hammer.

"What would your witch be meditating upon, xenos?" Asked the space marine. Not far, Dire Avengers scrambled to aim their guns and the space marine scoffed. "If your troops shoot me, this position will be blown to pieces by a squadron of Whirlwinds. Tell them to stand down." He commanded Dalmar scowled and slowly backed away.

"Stand down." He called.

"Very good. Stand still, do not back away." The space marine commanded. "My name is Yariel Anties, Captain of the Power Marines First Company. Since I have shown you the courtesy of not killing you and telling you my name, please tell me what the hell you are doing on this planet." He said.

"Cleansing it of filth." Dalmar said. Yariel stared at him, the imposing figure of a space marine helmet betraying no emotion though he could feel fury emanating from the Mon'Keigh.

"In which case, I would recommend suicide." He said.

"How dare you?" Menarys hissed. "How dare you refer to the Autarch-"

"No, no, it's quite alright. I can respect that, it was very witty. Did it take your primate brain long to think of that?" Dalmar said.

"No. But I've been waiting to say that to somebody for years. Now if that's all you have to say, then I'm getting tired of trading banter with aliens. Make peace with your alien gods, I'll be sending you to them rather soon." Yariel said, hefting his hammer. Dalmar stood unflinching.

"If you kill me, my host will dispatch you with extreme prejudice." He said.

"A risk I am willing to take." Yariel replied.

"You will never know the truth of the plot that threatens to consume your chapter." Dalmar said as Yariel prepared to swing. The strike stopped before it began as Yariel cocked his head to the side.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"My Farseer senses a plot. If I die, you will never know it and it will consume you." He said. Yariel scoffed.

"Trusting the word of alien witches, I'd be better off building a fortress on quicksand." Yariel said.

"A better choice than not building a fortress at all and hoping you are not attacked." Dalmar responded without missing a beat. Yariel hesitated.

"You do realize that I hold in my hands the power to end you, right here and now? It is clear to you?" Yariel said.

"Like the crystalline structure of my excrement." Dalmar said. Yariel paused.

_"What?"_ He said.

"Never mind. It's crystal clear." Dalmar replied. Yariel seemed a little thrown but he continued nonetheless.

"And I of course could easily murder you if you turned out to be deceiving me." Yariel said slowly.

"Undoubtedly. Shall you be unmaking me now?" Dalmar said.

"Perhaps... What is the... What is the nature of this plot?" Yariel asked.

"I do not know." He replied.

"You what?"

"I do not know, but my Farseer senses a plot and I trust her word." Dalmar said.

"So you're full of shit." Yariel said. He shook his head. "Plot... Fucking typical Eldar misdirection. If you have any final words, I do not give a damn." He said, raising his hammer.

"If there does turn out to be a plot, I will be instrumental in preventing it. I would advise you to be patient, if I am correct, this information might well save your chapter." Dalmar said. Yariel paused, then began to swing the hammer. However, he slowed and stopped it just millimeters from Dalmar's head. After a moment, he growled and stepped away.

"Damn you. It looks like you get to live, for now. Come with me and we can discuss some kind of truce." Yariel said.

"Given those whirlwinds, do I have a choice in the matter?" He asked.

"Did I ask for your consent? Get your skinny alien ass in gear." Yariel responded.

* * *

**Isphyda IV  
**

The Skitarii forces were scattered within the ruins of their temple, taking cover behind whatever ruins were available as the Iron Warriors advanced mercilessly. Skitarii Rangers hid behind toppled pillars, crumbled statues and ravaged alters, risking as many shots with their Galvanic rifles as possible, the electrical crackle filling the air alongside the roar of bolter fire. As their numbers dwindled, the Iron Warriors pushed on, not withdrawing an inch as artillery fire kept the Skitarii forces scattered.

Then, the Skitarii Rangers could make out bright orange flames piercing the irradiated crimson skies. Moments later, those flames came closer and they could see shapes within them. They were Space Marine drop pods and they landed in the temple, disgorging scores of Power Marines who set about delivering a fusillade of precise, disciplined bolter fire at the Iron Warriors. The Iron Warriors returned fire, taking cover in the ruins as the Power Marines swept across their ranks but they seemed to have forgotten the Skitarii and the Rangers seized the opportunity, leaping from cover and unleashing a storm of fire from their Galvanic rifles at the exposed Iron Warriors. Those rounds that penetrated armour electrocuted their quarries, being just as devastating as the explosive rounds fired by the boltguns of the space marines. In a heartbeat, the temple had been cleared of Iron Warriors and the artillery had been mysteriously silenced.

From the ranks of the Astartes, Chapter Master Crau Gann approached the Skitarii.

"Who is the Magos in charge of the defense?" Crau said. A Ranger stepped forward and looked to the side.

"Magos Varlan commands the defense of this world. He has been hard pressed to hold ground, the Iron Warriors have landed millions of cultists from Agora and they've overrun the primary forges. He is holding south of here in the Omega Hive, with many more Skitarii, Cult Mechanicus and Secutarii forces. He has activated the titans of the world but the Iron Warriors have their own titans." The Ranger said. As if on cue, the sound of an enormous explosion rocked the temple and Crau turned. Far away, he saw the silhouettes of Warhound titans clashing.

"We'd best get going, then. Try and lure out some cultists for an orbital bombardment, I'd prefer not to blow up any of the forges." Crau instructed. The Ranger nodded and they parted ways.

* * *

Savanax smashed his Axe of Khorne into the side of the head of a Secutarii Hoplite, cleaving through it and sending a spray of gore into the air as the body hit the ground. The rest of the squad of Hoplites lashed out with their Arc Lances, blasts of energy fizzling as they met his mighty terminator armour. He swung his axe in a wide arc, cutting down three Hoplites at once before striking down the rest of the squad in quick succession. Above him, Titans battled, their enormous guns tearing into one-another as the forces of the Imperium and Traitor legions clashed beneath their enormous feet, tens of thousands of cultists swarming the fortified position held by rows of Kataphrons, Vanguard, Rangers, Hoplites and Peltasts while Iron Warriors provided an elite core, unleashing salvos of bolter and autocannon fire while heavy support bombarded the enemy position, defilers from afar and vindicators from up close while chaos predators ground corpses to pulp beneath their treads and spat death from their autocannons.

Though they mounted a fierce defense, the forces of the Adeptus Mechanicus were slowly buckling under the pressure of the Iron Warriors' assault, their barricades being blown apart and those crouching behind them gunned down rapidly. Thousands of cultists were slaughtered but for every one that fell, half a dozen swarmed forward to fill his place. Galvanic rifles, Plasma Culverins, Phosphor Blasters, Heavy Grav Cannons, Arc rifles and all the weapons of the Adeptus Mechanicus were brought to bear but it was not enough, the Iron Warriors relentlessly pressing on, Obliterators countering the heavy fire of Kataphrons and Kastellans, Heldrakes screaming overhead and taking advantage of the lack of anti-air fielded by the Adeptus Mechanicus.

Then, suddenly, the tide turned. Overhead, stormraven, stormtalon and stormhawk fighters screamed through the air, providing opposition to the Heldakes while thunderhawks descended and deposited land raiders, predators, whirlwinds, vindicators and razorbacks while drop pods plummeted through the air and a formation of rhino transports trundled along the irradiated ground, space marines firing from their top hatches. From the skies, immense laser beams heated the air before tearing through the ground and shredding hundreds upon hundreds of cultists. As Warhound titans turned their guns to face this new threat, the Warhound titans of the Adeptus Mechanicus took advantage of their confusion and blasted away while bombs and missiles smashed into the chaos titans from the aircraft.

Savanax snarled and stepped back. The forces he had assembled could not win this fight just yet; he would have to fall back and regroup with his main forces to stand a chance but doing so would allow the Imperials time to do the same thing. After a moment of indecision, he growled.

"Fall back to the primaris forge!" Savanax roared, trying to push through the throng of cultists. He pushed and shoved, kicked and tripped, even made use of his axe to get through the mass. He had no intention of dying just yet.

"For the Emperor!" Came a cry and he looked to the side. A space marine in artificer armour that was decked out in much impressive bling charged through the cultists at Savanax, power sword swinging left and right to cut down any cultists foolish enough to not move out of the way. The chapter master, Savanax realized. Crau, as Dulenti had called him. He smirked and hefted his axe.

"Blood for the Blood God!" Savanax bellowed, lumbering forth in his hulking terminator armour. He swung a powerful strike at Crau, who ducked and darted forth with his power sword, slashing at Savanax's knee. The strike did not have enough force behind it to do any serious damage beyond cutting through armour and Savanax responded by kicking Crau in the chest, sending the loyalist staggering backwards. Savanax grinned and swung his axe. Crau rose his power sword up and clumsily parried the strike. Savanax hit again, bringing the huge axe down in a savage overhead strike. Crau responded by holding his power sword overhead in both hands and the impact sent a crashing sound through the air as vibrations spread through the axe and into Savanax's arms. Crau buckled underneath the strike and fell to the ground but the impact shocked Savanax as well, giving Crau enough time to move out of the way.

Crau rose unsteadily to his feet and stood back for a moment, Savanax doing the same. They sized each-other up for a moment. Savanax swung his axe through the air experimentally as the two circled around each-other, each waiting for the other to act first. Finally, Savanax lost his patience and lunged forward, swinging his axe in a second overhead strike. This time, Crau darted to the side and thrust his power sword into Savanax's side. The power field around it punched through Savanax's armour and the blade pierced his ribcage, sliding deep into Savanax's body. He roared in pain and jerked to the side, tugging the power sword from Crau's hands. Savanax staggered backwards as Crau darted backwards and he looked down at the blade in his side. He snarled in anger and grabbed the hilt of the blade, tugging it from his body and tossing the power sword to the ground. He stepped forward, preparing to strike but then, he realized that most of his army was fleeing now and if he remained for too long, he might be cut off. He scowled.

"We will meet again, chapter master. I will add your skull to Khorne's collection." Savanax promised, turning and sprinting to meet his army before Crau could respond verbally. Instead, a stream of bolter fire followed Savanax but none of them were able to pierce his armour.

* * *

Crau stood in the center of the battlefield following the retreat of the Iron Warriors. Thousands of corpses surrounded him and his marines and he frowned as Magos Varlan approached him, the cyborg nodding curtly.

"I thank you for your assistance, chapter master. We could not have won this day without your men." Varlan said.

"We haven't won yet, Magos. The Iron Warriors still maintain a large force on this world. I doubt we have the manpower to defeat them once and for all." Crau said. As he spoke, pain lanced through his chest and he winced. The pains from his old wound were growing worse and more frequent. It had been a while since he had removed his armour and looked upon it, he was afraid of what he would see when he next did.

"No... But there are... Ways we can have a technological advantage." Varlan said. Crau raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Something the Adeptus Mechanicus has kept hidden from the Imperium at large for millennia." Varlan said. "I would not even consider telling you this if the safety of the Forge World weren't at stake but..."

"But what?" Crau demanded.

"I fear it is the only choice. When your men discovered gene-seed stores on the sixth world in the system..." Varlan began.

"The relics from the Horus Heresy?" Crau said. "How is that significant?"

"They were not the only relics of the Heresy left in this system. On this world, many Ultramarines stood to defend against the Word Bearers and World Eaters. When they had completed their mission, they left behind many ruined vehicles, damaged weapons. The Adeptus Mechanicus... Recovered these items. Repaired them. Kept them in storage for the last ten millennia, in case we might need them." Varlan explained. Crau's eyes widened.

"How much equipment?" Crau asked. Varlan hesitated.

"A... Substantial amount. Numerous volkite weapons, the chassis' for several Contemptor pattern dreadnoughts... And three Fellblades." Varlan said. Crau grinned and slapped the Magos on the shoulder.

"Thank the Emperor for you tech-priests and your hoarding, this will tip the scales in our favour! Take me to these equipment stores, we can man those tanks and push the heretics off this planet." Crau said. Varlan nodded.

"Yes, there is one... Slight problem." He said. Crau's face fell and he scowled.

"What?"

"The equipment was... Stored underneath the Primaris Forge. Which the Iron Warriors currently hold." He explained.

"Typical. Is there any chance the Iron Warriors could get access to this stuff before we arrive?" Crau asked. Varlan shook his head.

"Absolutely not, it's stored deep underground in vaults that can only be accessed by a Magos of this forge-world." He said. Crau took a deep breath.

"Very well. We'll just need to retake that forge. Where most of the Iron Warriors on the ground are garrisoned. Easy." Crau said.


	17. Chapter 17

**Isphyda IV**

Crau stood around a table with Magos Varlan, Captain Helios and Sergeant Orion, the latter having just arrived on the surface from a recovery room. On the table stood a holographic display of the land around the Primaris Forge as well as the Iron Warriors stationed there. Crau's eyes scanned the map as pain coursed throughout his torso, but he gritted his teeth and resisted despite the weak feeling in his knees and the pounding headache that plagued him.

"The entrance to the reliquary is here." Varlan said, pointing to a large bunker a few hundred meters from the Forge. "This contains the entrance to a tunnel into the reliquary where all the equipment is stored. There's also a hangar of sorts for transporting items up into the Forge but that can only be opened from within the Reliquary and only an anointed member of the Priesthood of Mars can access it via opening the doors but..." Varlan trailed off.

"The Iron Warriors are likely going to use explosives to get through." Orion said.

"Yes." Varlan said. "There is little risk of them damaging the items within given how long the tunnel is and so they can absolutely afford to blow the doors off. We do have an advantage in time, however. Even if they get their hands on the relics, the blessed machine spirits will resist them. We have as long as it takes to corrupt the machine spirits to take that reliquary." Varlan said.

"How long will that take?" Helios asked, folding his arms across his chest.

_"However long it takes, rest assured, we will corrupt those machines and turn them on you... You cannot resist..." _The voice of the sorcerer whispered in Crau's head.

"I do not know for sure. For the small items like bolters, not very long, a day at most. The tanks, the contemptor dreadnoughts will perhaps take a week. We absolutely won't have to worry about Glaives and Fellblades, those will take far too much time to turn than the Iron Warriors can afford." Varlan assured him.

"If we can seize the Reliquary before too many vehicles are corrupted and deploy tank crews within..." Orion mused.

"We can use that hangar to deploy heavy firepower from within the Forge!" Helios said. "Coupled with a frontal assault, we could _crush_ the Iron Warriors!"

"Yes, but do we have the numbers for a frontal assault? We've lost almost two hundred marines over the course of this conflict, the entire first company is still dealing with the Orks. That puts us at 700 marines at the worst. A substantial force to be sure, but the Iron Warriors bear similar numbers plus countless thousands of cultists." Orion said. "I would not rely on these Fellblades to turn the conflict if we do not have the forces to maintain a frontal assault for long enough to activate them."

"Yes..." Crau said. "Varlan, how many Kataphrons do you have available?" He asked.

"At short enough notice for this assault? Three thousand. I could deploy my Skitarii and Titan Guard as well but they are hunting down the chaos forces not at the Forge, if we pull them away from this mission then these Iron Warriors could regroup and hit us from the rear. I can make use of the Legio Cybernetica and some Electro Priests in addition to the Kataphrons, but that is all I can spare in the immediate future." Varlan said. Crau nodded.

"Then that will have to do. Muster your forces. Send your Kataphrons to attack here..." Crau said, pointing to the main entrance to the Forge. "Deploying heavier forces as needed. My Space Marines will be focusing on taking that bunker but we will have reserves on hand in case your own forces aren't enough." He finished. Varlan nodded and Crau looked at Helios.

"You'll have command of the reserve forces, Captain. Orion, I want you to take the Reliquary with me and the main force." Crau said. They nodded and when it became clear Crau had nothing else to add, they set off to prepare themselves for battle.

* * *

**Isphyda IV, Primaris Forge **

Savanax lay prostrated before a hastily erected shrine to Khorne, murmuring a prayer under his breath. He heard footsteps and rose, turning to see Dulenti standing before him.

"You summoned me, Warsmith?" Dulenti asked. Savanax nodded.

"Yes. Tell me, sorcerer, do you remember when you first came to us? To my Grand Company?" Savanax asked. Dulenti frowned and nodded.

"I do. I was banished from the Planet of Sorcerers and looked for new legions and warbands to take me in. You were the only one who did not refuse me." Dulenti said.

"Indeed. My men nearly revolted when I told them I was employing the services of a sorcerer and I daresay Khorne will never forgive me, but I understood something they didn't. Your powers are necessary to fighting against the Imperium, so I took you in." Savanax said.

"An action which I am most grateful for, dear Warsmith. Where is this going?" Dulenti asked.

"I'll admit, I did not trust you at first. I am a devotee of Khorne and a Warsmith of the Iron Warriors, you are a sorcerer. Seemingly natural enemies. But over time, you proved yourself a thousand times over. I may not have seemed particularly grateful for your services but... Centuries of throwing waves of men at astartes at enemy defenses, a constantly changing group of people around me, you were the only one who remained at my side for longer than a century." Savanax said. Dulenti seemed confused and Savanax drew breath, continuing.

"The truth is, Dulenti... I consider you a friend. My only friend. The rest of this army, they're all worthless, fresh faces that mean nothing to me. You have been there for centuries, by my side, aiding me, staying true. I tell you this now because I fear this will be our final battle together, friend. The Power Marines and the Adeptus Mechanicus close in, we struggle with the machine spirits of the relics, many of our number are dead... Coming to this system was a mistake that has sealed our fates, I fear. So... I needed to say this before I die." Savanax said. There was a moment of awkward silence but then, Dulenti smiled his sickening smile.

"Thank you, Warsmith. I am proud to be considered among friends. We shall die side by side with glory, claiming many skulls before we fall and our souls return to the Warp." Dulenti said. Savanax gave a faint smile.

"I am glad to have loyal men such as yourself at my back. Let us go." Savanax said, striding for his terminator armour to don it before the battle would inevitably begin.

"Yes, dear Warsmith... Right behind you, all the way." Dulenti said softly. "Iron Within, Iron Without."

* * *

**Isphyda I  
**

Yariel stood before the Autarch and Farseer, his arms folded across his chest. The Eldar Witch levitated a few feet above the ground, her arms raised, her eyes glowing white as energy crackled and fizzled around her. Yariel rolled his eyes impatiently.

"How long..." He began.

"Shh, patience." Dalmar interrupted. "She is peering into the mists of the future and the present. One cannot rush such things." He said. Yariel scowled and fell silent. After many long minutes, the energy faded and Menarys gently drifted to the ground, like a feather. Her eyes returned to their normal copper hue.

"Well?" Yariel insisted. "What did you see?" Her eyes widened and she looked around.

"Death. Treachery. The darkness of Chaos clouds my sight, but I can tell that your chapter master walks a dangerous path, Mon'Keigh. Four powerful figures will be killed by betrayal most foul before this conflict sees its end. I do not know who but..." She trailed off.

"Who is it, witch? Who?" Yariel demanded. Dalmar scowled at him and raised a hand.

"Do you have any indication as to who might die? A sign?" Dalmar asked.

"I think... I think you may be among them, Autarch." She whispered. Dalmar's gaze turned to Yariel who met it fiercely.

"Do not think I will stab you in the back, alien. Rest assured if I kill you, you will have plenty of warning." Yariel said sternly.

"I do not think Captain Anties will be a betrayer, Autarch. Somebody else... A heavy cloud hangs over your chapter master. Darkness eats away at his heart and a voice in his ear allows it to fester and rot..." She said.

"Could you be any more cryptic?" Yariel said.

"I think she was quite clear, human. I would keep a close watch on your chapter master if I were you." Dalmar warned.

"How dare you suggest that Crau would-" Yariel began but then, a chilling cry filled the air.

"WAAAGH!" Came a deep, guttural voice from above. Yariel looked up and saw a large scrap of metal that appeared to be some kind of makeshit drop pod falling from the sky... It was a strange sight indeed. Two Orks stood on it, one wearing a very large hat and wielding two large guns with two large swords strapped to its back. The other was... Playing an electric guitar.

"ORKZ IZ MADE-A ROKKIN!" The one with the guitar yelled before the scrap they stood on disappeared from sight, preceding a large crashing sound which saw the music stopping. Yariel, Dalmar and Menarys stood there for a full minute in silence. Apparently they were having just as much trouble processing what they just saw as Yariel was.

"What... The fuck?" Yariel said.

"What the fuck indeed, human. I think we had best inspect that... Thing." Dalmar said.

"I agree..." Yariel muttered, hefting his hammer. They set off in search of the greenskins.

* * *

**Isphyda IV  
**

Crau watched from above on a thunderhawk gunship as the force of servitors on tank treads trundled towards the mass of screaming cultists. Plasma Culverins and Heavy Grav Cannons roared as they melted through large chunks of the enemy force and ripped dozens of cultists to the ground without a thought for the well-being of their bone structures, respectively. Virtually every muscle in his body was alive with agony and his entire torso had gone numb, but still he gritted his teeth and continued fighting. He feared what he would see when he finally had an opportunity to remove his armour but for now he had a task to focus on.

As his eyes, both biological and cybernetic, scanned the battlefield, he saw that the bulk of the enemy cultists were flocking to meet the Kataphrons. However, the Iron Warriors themselves mostly remained stationed around the Forge and the bunker. Around the bunker itself, around a hundred Iron Warriors were located, situated behind barricades and gun emplacements. In addition, forty Obliterators were located behind the barricades.

"Brothers, strike from the skies!" Crau roared into the vox. The flight of thunderhawks that had been hanging above the battlefield swooped down, depositing assault marines as well as Crau and his Honour Guard behind enemy lines while others deployed tank squadrons to break the lines of the Iron Warriors via frontal assault of the bunker. From orbit, dozens of drop pods hurtled down to the ground, disgorging space marines in the hundreds to deal with the heavily entrenched Iron Warriors.

Crau landed heavily on the ground, stumbling as his Honour Guard swept through the squad of Obliterators they had landed next to, Relic Blades and Power Swords carving through their terminator armour with relative ease. By the time Crau had steadied himself and was ready to fight, that squad of Obliterators were all dead and his Honour Guard were already moving onto the next target, a large twenty-man squad of Chaos Space Marines taking cover behind one of the barricades and firing upon the approaching Power Marines from the front, seemingly oblivious to the deadly threat approaching from the rear.

Managing to keep up, Crau and his Honour Guard smashed into the mass of Iron Warriors, butchering them in a flurry of blades and gore. Though they tried to resist, they were no match for the elite warriors of the Power Marines and the squad was swiftly reduced to a pile of limbs. One of the Honour Guard turned around triumphantly only to be reduced to a pile of ash as a lascannon blast hit him straight in the chest. The rest of them turned and saw that a squad of Obliterators had turned their attention to them. Crau scowled.

"For the Emperor, charge!" Crau yelled, brandishing his sword and sprinting for the three Obliterators as his Honour Guard followed suit. He ran as fast as his agonized legs would carry him. A lascannon blast that would have butchered him in short order dissipated into mist as the force-field generated by his Iron Halo activated, protecting him from harm. His Honour Guard were significantly less fortunate, however, lascannon and plasma cannon blasts ripping through them like a bolter round through wet tissue paper. By the time they reached the Obliterators, only two of the ten-man squad was still alive and they set upon the Obliterators with righteous fury, stabbing and slicing and hacking and slashing to avenge their brothers. Two of the Obliterators flanked one Honour Guard and smashed him to a bloody pulp with their power fists but as Crau bisected the third, he and the surviving Honour Guard in turn flanked the two Obliterators and impaled them both from behind. They withdrew their blades and Crau looked around the battlefield.

The Iron Warriors around the bunker had been completely wiped out, overwhelmed by the might of some six hundred Power Marines converging on them all at once and a hundred marines had swept into the bunker and cleared it of foes. However, a large force of cultists had broken off from the bloody carnage against the Kataphrons far away and were headed for the bunker alongside what looked to be half the remaining Iron Warriors from the Forge. Worse, defilers from the forge were bombarding the position with their cannons.

"Helios, take the reserve forces and deal with those defilers, now!" Crau demanded. "Varlan, the bunker is ours, get the tank crews here while it remains that way!" He continued. As he spoke into the vox, Orion approached him, currently in the process of reloading his bolter.

"Well, it looks like we'll be taking to the field together, brother. Just like old times." Orion said.

"Like old times, yes. Before Ivan died. When the tank crews are here, we'll go into the tunnel and kill whatever heretics attempt to befoul relics of the Imperium." Crau said. His vision blurred for a moment as a wave of pain swept through him, but then it cleared. A moment later, more transports descended from the skies and from them came techpriests, techmarines and servitors. As they did this, many of the Power Marines began to form a perimeter, making use of the barricades and gun emplacements to engage the approaching enemies from afar. Crau took his sword in both hands and looked to Orion and the sole surviving member of the Honour Guard. He nodded to them and they entered the bunker.

Within, fifty tactical marines were assembled. Numerous dead bodies littered the floor and in the center of the bunker lay a blasted open set of double doors. The tank crews looked at the damage done to the entryway in disgust.

"Brothers, protect the tank crews. They are our only hope of winning this day." Crau said. "May the Emperor guide us."

With this, they flooded into the tunnel, moving forward rapidly. They were met instantly with opposition in the form of waves of cultists emerging from the shadows with screams of rage and converging on the Power Marines. They opened up on the approaching mass with holy bolter fire, lighting up the tunnel as the heavy caliber rounds ripped into the unprotected humans and detonated, tearing bodies to bloody ribbons as the Power Marines advanced relentlessly. They mowed down any and all opposition mercilessly and of course, this prompted the whispering of the sorcerer much to Crau's chagrin.

_"Ah, look at how you so mercilessly slaughter your fellow man. They believe what they are doing is for something greater... Not so different from your own space marines." _The voice said. Crau scowled, turning off his vox.

"They are slaves to the ruinous powers, how dare you compare them to space marines?" Crau said.

_"They voluntarily give themselves to the dark gods. Yes, we conquered their world a century ago but those who refused to convert on Agora are long since dead. Did you have any choice in becoming a space marine? Did you volunteer to fight for your corpse-god? Did you willingly give yourself to him, or were you ripped from your home as a child and brainwashed to believe you were on the side of the righteous?" _The voice asked. _"At least these cultists die for a cause they chose to die for. They are no more slaves than you." _Crau had no response to this and so he contented himself with continuing to butcher those in his path until finally, they reached the Reliquary.

All around him were rows upon rows of shelves containing ancient weapons, mostly bolters. There were numerous crates full of ammunition and on the far end of the enormous hall were dozens of tanks and contemptor pattern dreadnoughts. In the middle of the room was a large landing pad which looked as if it could be raised into the air to an opening set of doors above, with two Fellblade, one Falchion and three Glaive super-heavy tanks located on this pad. Throughout the room hundreds more cultists were located, worshiping newly built idols to their dark gods and the Power Marines swept through the Reliquary, methodically butchering each and every cultist in their path until the room was eerily silent as the tank crews began manning the tanks, particularly the super-heavy vehicles. Crau noticed that while a substantial amount of these vehicles were coloured in the black of the Iron Hands and bore the heraldry of that chapter, many more were cobalt and bore the Omega of the Ultramarines.

As the tanks rumbled to life, a techpriest approached a panel on the far wall and began working at it with his servo harness. Moments later, light flooded the room from above as the sliding hangar doors slid open and the landing pad was lifted into the air along with its payload of super-heavy tanks. The platform momentarily disappeared from view, only the support pillar holding it up being visible. Then, minutes later, the platform descended back to the Reliquary, the Super-Heavy tanks gone. From the sounds of pandemonium above, they were doing their job and the ancient Predator tanks rolled onto the platform. After two more loads, all the tanks in the Reliquary were now in the Forge wreaking havoc on the Iron Warriors defending it. Now, Crau and his Astartes piled onto the platform, waiting to be lifted up to join the battle once more.

* * *

Savanax stood in the midst of the battlefield, bellowing orders at his Iron Warriors as the lines around him buckled. In the distance he saw that his cultists were almost all gone, the force sent to retake the bunker had broken on the Power Marines and as the wave of Kataphrons and loyalists drew closer, his few remaining forces within the city were swiftly being crushed by the tanks which had emerged from underground.

"Hold! Hold, damn you all!" Savanax roared as the scores of Iron Warriors around him began to waver. He could see in the distance a substantial force of space marines approaching, spearheaded by a Fellblade and two predators. Savanax felt a grim satisfaction in the knowledge that his men had rigged numerous explosive across the Forge, set to go off remotely upon Savanax's order. As the Power Marines approached, he looked around at his men and knew that if they broke now, the explosives would not be able to achieve their maximum effect. But, if he stayed, then he would be caught in the blast...

"Brothers, hold your ground!" Savanax said as a stroke of genius hit him. "I will go and rally the rest of the Grand Company, HOLD YOUR GROUND!" He yelled as he turned and began running. There was a thunderhawk waiting for him outside the Forge and by the time he reached it, the Forge would no doubt be completely overrun with enemies. He ran as fast as his terminator would allow, oblivious to the cries of pain as the Iron Warriors he had left behind were gunned down.

* * *

Dulenti stood on the boarding ramp of an Iron Warrior thunderhawk transport that was currently grounded. From the hill it was stationed on, he had a rather clear view of the battle both in the Forge and outside it. It was going very poorly, the mass of tanks from the Reliquary below the Primaris Forge being the final push the Power Marines needed to break the Iron Warriors, who were now routing to the transports they had. In the distance, Dulenti could see Savanax running from the battle, completely alone as gunfire pursued him. Dulenti looked around at the ten Iron Warriors around him. Two wielded missile launchers and stood ready, knowing what they were about to do. Dulenti turned his attention back to Savanax as he drew closer.

"Warsmith, I am glad you survived!" Dulenti called as Savanax slowed to a halt in his hulking terminator armour. He was breathing heavily. "Tell the pilot to be ready." Dulenti murmured.

"This battle... Damnation, we should have had more men around the bunker and in the Reliquary!" Savanax snarled.

"Indeed. You made the wrong decision and now your Grand Company lies in shambles." Dulenti said, stepping off the thunderhawk and approaching Savanax.

"What... Friend?" Savanax asked, frowning. "What do you-"

"Silence, worm." Dulenti said. "Now, I can finally stop kowtowing to you. What's left of your Grand Company is loyal to me, Savanax. You are nothing." He continued. As he spoke, the smoky form of Tierra appeared behind him, for the first time revealing himself to Savanax.

_"Oho, you played right into his hands, Warsmith. I have seen some incredibly stupid acts in my time, this? Ehehehe, this takes the cake." _Tierra said. Dulenti's body coursed with power as Tierra channeled his daemonic energies into the sorcerer and as Savanax snarled in anger and began approaching Dulenti, he raised both his hands and started exerting his psychic powers.

Savanax screamed in pain as immense amounts of pressure were applied to his entire body. He sank to his knees and as Dulenti laughed hysterically, he applied more and more pressure. Savanax roared in agony, writhing around in his terminator armour. Eventually, he lay flat on his back and Dulenti briefly relented, allowing Savanax a moment of reprieve. The Warsmith breathed heavily and then rolled onto his belly, looking up at Dulenti, unable to stand.

"Dulenti... Please... All those centuries..." Savanax said. "My friend..."

"It was all leading up to this point, Warsmith." Dulenti said, giggling hysterically.

"You're insane." Savanax breathed.

_"Quite." _Tierra commented.

"Indeed." Dulenti said.

"Please, Dulenti... Spare me, I can _help _you... You're suffering, I can see, but..." He trailed off as Dulenti began to apply more psychic pressure, entirely to Savanax's cranium.

"My dear Warsmith, I do not _suffer _from insanity. I enjoy every minute of it." Dulenti said, laughing maniacally as he clenched his fist, an immense amount of psychic force clamping down on Savanax's head, which promptly burst like a grape. The hulking corpse before him twitched violently as a pool of blood formed around it. Eventually, the twitching stopped and Dulenti could see the Power Marines in the distance drawing closer.

_"That right there? That was so worth putting up with your shit." _Tierra said as his smoky form began to dissipate. Dulenti smiled wickedly and after retrieving Savanax's Axe of Khorne, he turned, striding back onto the thunderhawk as its engines powered up. The other Iron Warriors were already strapped into their harnesses and as the ramp closed behind him, Dulenti followed suit while the craft took off, soaring into the atmosphere.


	18. Chapter 18

**Isphyda I**

Yariel, Dalmar and Menarys crept through the trees. They came to the spot where the Orks had landed, a freshly made crater. In the middle, the scrap they had arrived on still in tact somehow, the Orks on top still alive and making music.

"Alright, I'll charge them, you two cover me." Yariel whispered. They nodded and he took a deep breath, gripping his hammer tightly before charging into the clearing.

"For the Emperor!" He yelled. The Ork with the guitar played an electrifying riff and yelled

"AN' DA EMPRAH FER US!" The Ork yelled as the other one aimed his guns at Yariel, opening fire. Most of the rounds missed but a handful managed to hit Yariel, bouncing off his armour. He came within distance of the scrap pile and leaped up onto a lower part of it, grabbing hold and climbing up. When he reached the top, he prepared to strike before he himself was struck in the face with the end of the guitar. He was thrown off, his face in pain and confusion being his main emotion. He landed on his backside in the dirt and sat there for a moment, his brain still processing just what was happening. Then, he was snapped back to reality by the telltale battlecry of the Orks from the trees. Moments later, hundreds of Orks spewed forth from the trees, guns blazing and blades ready.

* * *

**Isphyda IV  
**

Crau stood in the aftermath of the battle, bodies strewn about and his Space Marines standing proudly over the body of the Warsmith. Magos Varlan stood before him, numerous Kataphrons that had survived the battle in formation. Crau could barely stand, exhausted and in agony and feeling very ill.

"My Lord, our Forge World owes you a debt of gratitude. With your aid, we have survived the Iron Warriors and there will never be enough words to thank you and your brothers." Varlan said. Crau was glad for his helmet so that he didn't have to force a smile.

"You're too kind, Magos." He said, his voice strained. "We were merely doing our duty."

"Be that as it may, some kind of reward is in order. A token of our gratitude." Varlan said. He looked out to the battlefield, where the numerous tanks they had rescued from the Reliquary were still. "Those relics of the Horus Heresy. For ten thousand years, we have preserved them. If not for you, they would be in the hands of traitors to be used for their own nefarious purposes. I can think of no worthy owners for them but your own Space Marines."

"I cannot accept." Crau said, frowning. "Those belong to the Adeptus Mechanicus, we..."

"We give them to you as a gift, in thanks for your aid. We would not have relics to gift nor people to gift them if not for your efforts, Chapter Master. They will strengthen your chapter and in fact, many of them come from your own progenitors, the Ultramarines. I am sure they would be glad to know that what was once theirs is now in good hands. All of the relics, from the Fellblades and Glaives to the Contemptor dreadnoughts and even the most basic of bolters, they belong to the Power Marines now." Varlan said. Crau smiled weakly behind his helmet.

"In which case, I... I graciously accept. We will put them to good use, in purging the heretics, the aliens and the unclean. For the Emperor!" Crau said.

"The Blessings of the Omnissiah are with you, Chapter Master. I bid you farewell." Varlan said. He turned and walked off. Crau sighed.

_"How... Touching. It's a pity you won't be alive long enough to use them for any more battles, dear Chapter Master. The rot spreads through you. You will be dead before tomorrow." _The voice of the sorcerer said, sending a chill down Crau's spine. He turned off his vox.

"You lie, sorcerer. It is a momentary weakness, I shall overcome it." Crau hissed.

_"There is only one way for you to overcome Nurgle's Rot, fool... Many before you have given in to that temptation... That armour, the Warsmith used to wear it. It kept Chaos Energies flowing through him so that another of the Plaguefather's diseases did not consume his soul, a gift from Khorne so that his faithful servant might live. Who knows... Maybe it might do the same for you." _The voice said, fading away. Crau eyed the suit of terminator armour and the body inside it with disgust and... Longing. He reactivated his vox.

"I want that armour loaded on the _Armageddon_." He said, pointing at the terminator armour.

"Why, brother?" A space marine asked.

"I am... Curious, I wish to study it, back on Isphyda I. Do not question my order." Crau demanded. There was no response and as a thunderhawk descended from the sky, two Astartes reluctantly loaded the corpse onto it. Crau could not help but smile as he stepped onto the transport.

* * *

**Isphyda I  
**

Yariel swung his hammer from side to side as the greenskins swarmed him, hundreds of them. Above, Dalmar soared, firing into the mass below while the Farseer kept numerous Orks at bay with her psychic powers. They had been tricked and Yariel was furious.

"Brothers, we require assistance!" Yariel roared into the vox as he brought his hammer down on the ground, generating a shockwave which sent numerous Orks flying. He smashed it into an Ork and as the pulverized greenskin fell to the ground, he struck again and again and again. Soon, the sounds of jump packs revving filled the air and from above, Vanguard Veterans descended upon the greenskins. Yariel could make out the host of the Eldar as well as the rest of his company on the way to join the fight but the Orks simply kept coming from the trees, an unstoppable mass. As he cleared the space around him, he raised his hammer overhead.

"FOR THE EMPEROR!" He roared, charging forward with his brothers following, boltguns roaring and Orks dropping by the dozens. He and his veterans smashed into the throng, blades and hammers darting out and bringing down numerous Orks. Yariel slew one, then another, a dozen more in a heartbeat as he tore into them with righteous fury and sparing none. Around him, Vanguard Veterans lashed out with chainswords, power swords, lightning claws and relic blades, with Sternguard Veterans and Eldar Aspect Warriors providing fire support. As they cut down numerous Orks, he saw many of his own brothers fall, the Orks were so many. A veteran fell with an axe through his brain, another shot through the throat and numerous more injuries.

"Captain, they're behind us!" Came a cry from the vox and when Yariel whipped around, sure enough a horde of Orks emerged from the rear, smashing into the Eldar and Sternguard Veterans. Soon, they were completely surrounded.

"I want the terminators teleported in right now, get me whirlwinds and armour support!" Yariel bellowed int the vox. Minutes later, a blinding flash of light heralded the arrival of terminators who brutally slaughtered scores of Orks each minute, yet they just kept coming. After a while as the fighting slowed, missiles rained down on the greenskins and from the trees, a squadron of predator annihilators emerged, their lascannons vaporizing many a greenskin. Even as the greenskins kept coming, an endless mass of bodies, it was clear that the tide was beginning to turn in favour of the Space Marines and Eldar.

* * *

**Isphyda IV Orbit **

Dulenti sat on a chair aboard the bridge of the very last _Hades _class cruiser in the Iron Warriors fleet, the rest all having been destroyed or captured. This one was now playing a game of cat and mouse with the pursuing strike cruisers and Dulenti adored it. However, he knew that keeping up the game indefinitely was not a wise choice. With reluctance, he rose to his feet.

"Prepare the engines for Warp Jump." Dulenti said. A wisp of smoke emerged before him and the smoky figure of the Warpblazer appeared.

_"Running away, Sorcerer?" _Tierra said.

"Quite the contrary, daemon. I am engaging in a tactical withdrawal. Though I am loathe to stay in this festering hole of a system, we are not done here." Dulenti responded.

_"Really? I would have thought losing nine hundred of your thousand chaos space marines as well as virtually all of your ships and cultists is roughly equivalent to a defeat." _Tierra said.

"All part of the plan, dear Warpblazer. Make no mistake, my business in this system is almost finished but I have one final matter to attend to." He said.

"My Lord, the Warp Drive is ready!" A cultist cried.

"Good. Set coordinates to the other side of that sun. We will wait there for as long as we need to." Dulenti instructed. The smoky form of Tierra began to fade.

_"Well, whatever. Do what you want, I'm going back to the Warp." _

"You mean you can't maintain your presence in the material realm any longer. Banishment is funny like that. If you see the Sanguinor, tell him I said hello." Dulenti said. The last thing he saw of Tierra was a scowl and he chuckled as the ship jumped into the Warp.

* * *

**Isphyda IV Orbit, Bridge of the _Armageddon_**

Crau sat wearily on the chair in the bridge that he so rarely made use of. All that was left to do now was to destroy the remaining chaos vessel and return home so he could examine his chest and also that suit of armour.

"Power up lances and torpedo tubes, I want that ship to be scrap." Crau demanded.

"M'lord, it's making a Warp jump!" A serf yelled. Crau shut his eyes and sat in silence for a moment. His list of things to do had just grown smaller.

"Very well. Let's go home." He called wearily. The fleet turned about and engines activated, the reduced Power Marines fleet setting course for Isphyda I.

After a couple of hours, they were in orbit of Isphyda I. A serf ran up to Crau.

"M'lord, we just did a scan of the world! Captain Yariel is on the ground, fighting a large group of Orks! They've lost a lot of men and there seems to be a host of Eldar with them!" The serf yelled. Crau scowled. It looked like there would be one last battle to fight. But he would not take part in this one.

"Put the 2nd and 3rd companies in drop pods and reinforce them, kill the greenskins and the Eldar." Crau demanded. Orion stepped forward.

"Brother, I saw these scans... The Eldar seem to be working with-" Orion began. Crau scowled and held up a hand.

"No. I don't care what you have to say. Get Captain Helios and Captain Tragun down there and-" Crau said.

"Forgive me, brother... Captain Tragun? He's just a sergeant." Orion said, a frown on his face.

"The sergeant of the command squad. If I recall correctly, Captain Warren is dead. That makes Tragun the captain of the 3rd company." Crau said impatiently. "I want them down there, I want every last damned alien in that area dead. No questions, just do it." Crau demanded. The serf and Orion nodded and Crau shut his eyes, sighing. He was tired of fighting.

* * *

**Isphyda I  
**

Yariel swung his hammer wearily, his energy virtually depleted. The greenskins just kept coming and although there had been a momentary tip of the scales, there seemed to be no end to the green tide as they swept forth, leaving dozens of Eldar and Space Marines dead. Dalmar swooped down, shooting an Ork that had crept up on Yariel through the head.

"Captain, look to the skies!" Dalmar said, concern in his voice. Yariel looked up and saw numerous drop pods descending from the heavens. He grinned.

"Salvation has arrived, alien!" Yariel declared. He felt renewed, as if a second wind had filled him with energy and he set about slaying Orks even faster than before. Dalmar did not seem so eager and rose back into the sky above. Minutes later, the drop pods landed and disgorged a hundred and fifty space marines, some in the midst of the Orks and some... Right in the middle of the Eldar. Every space marine opened fire as they moved, gunning down greenskin and Eldar alike.

"No!" Yariel yelled. "They're helping us, stop!" He cried into the vox. But his protests fell on deaf ears. In the distance, he saw an assault marine strike down Farseer Menarys with a savage blow from his chainsword, sending a spray of gore into the air as the Eldar woman's shrill scream pierced the air.

"Mon'keigh, damn you!" Dalmar roared, swooping down and firing at Yariel. Numerous lasers pierced his armour, wounding Yariel and sending him to his knees as Dalmar flew down, kicking Yariel in the face and sending him sprawling. He lay dazed in the dirt and looked up as Dalmar drew a sword and prepared to strike. But then, he jerked back as numerous bolter rounds ripped into him, blood gushing from numerous huge wounds in the alien's gut and torso. He cried in pain before the rounds detonated, reducing the Autarch to a head, limbs and pool of blood on the ground. He looked around him as his brothers swept through the trees, butchering all xenos in their path without mercy, pushing Orks and Eldar back with no quarter. Reluctantly, he rose to his feet, retrieved his hammer and rejoined the battle, helping to drive back the greenskins.

* * *

**Later...  
**

Yariel and Orion stood facing each-other in the fortress-monastery. Yariel was furious and Orion defensive.

"I told you, Yariel, I had nothing to do with it! It was on Crau's orders!" Orion insisted.

"Don't give me that bullshit! They were helping us! They had vital information and now it's gone forever!" Yariel roared.

"Are you defending the xenos, Yariel? After they killed our brothers before you decided to spare them, after they slaughtered civilians? The galaxy is a better place without them, you mark my words." Orion said. Yariel scowled.

"I gave them my word, Orion. I swore I would not betray them." He said.

"An oath to aliens is not an oath one must keep. Besides, it was Crau who ordered their deaths, Crau who sent Tragun and Helios down to butcher the Eldar. If you have problems with Crau's decisions, I will be sure to pass them on when I visit him later." Orion said. Yariel frowned.

"Why are you visiting him?" He asked.

"You are not the only one displeased with the Chapter Master. He has been acting very strangely since this conflict broke out. Not himself. He's turned off his vox for extended periods without explanation, he's reportedly told his Honour Guard to shut up when nobody was talking and according to the serfs, he hasn't taken his armour off once since departing this world. Not even his helmet for fresh air." Orion said.

"Do you... Do you suspect something is amiss?" Yariel asked. Orion rolled his eyes.

"No, I think that it's absolutely nothing and it's sheer coincidence that he's doing all this right as our system is invaded by the Ruinous Powers." Orion said sarcastically. Yariel looked in horror at Orion.

"You suspect that... That Crau is corrupted?" Yariel asked.

"I do. He ordered we bring back the armour of the Warsmith and he's been locked alone in the Reliquary with it since he arrived. Let's just say I think that there might be voices in his head, if you catch my drift." Orion said, drawing his bolt pistol and ensuring it was loaded before putting it back in its holster. Yariel felt only horror as he thought of something the Eldar witch had said...

_"Darkness eats away at his heart and a voice in his ear allows it to fester and rot..." _She had said. Yariel did not want to believe it. He _refused _to believe that Crau, his best friend since before they were even space marines, had been corrupted but... Orion was rather convincing.

"If that's all, brother, I'm off to visit the Chapter Master, to either confirm or do away with my suspicions." Orion said. Yariel hesitated and sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"Do what you must." Yariel said.

"I intend to." Orion said. He turned and took a step, before pausing and looking back to Yariel. "If I'm not back within the hour, assume I've been murdered." Orion said. Without a further word, he strode off.

* * *

**Earlier...**

Crau strode into the Reliquary and looked around. As he had instructed, the armour of the Warsmith was there with the body removed from it, the Reliquary was empty and he was alone. He locked the door behind him and then locked all of the doors to the room for good measure. He shut his eyes and removed his helmet. He tossed it to the ground.

_"Yes, good... Gaze into that mirror, see what has become of you." _The sorcerer whispered. Crau walked to the mirror and looked in. His biological eye widened in horror at what he saw.

His face was hollow, gaunt and death pale, a layer of green-tinted fluid coating it and more seeping from his pores. The steel plating on the left side of his face had completely rusted and looked as if it was on the verge of falling off. His eye bulged from its socket, bloodshot and swollen. He looked away rapidly and breathed deeply as pain shot up from his chest.

_"There is more, Chapter Master... Remove the rest of your armour." _The voice whispered. Reluctantly, Crau began to remove his armour, struggling as he went. First, his pauldrons, then the breastplate and all the various components until finally, he stripped off the body glove underneath until he was completely naked. He did not look down, walking back to the mirror and looking fearfully at himself.

His chest was covered in blisters, boils and pockmarks, what little skin was unblemished was deathly pale and seeped more of that green fluid, many sores wept pus and shimmered in the dim light. The scar on his chest was open, the metal gone and the wound bleeding profusely, black blood oozing slowly from the wound. His heart... It felt as if a cold hand was gripping his primary heart and moments later, his secondary heart felt the same. His legs gave out and he hit the ground hard, vomiting on the floor and sobbing in pain. He wiped his mouth and stared at the brown and green puddle before him, disgust filling him as he retched even more, bile and blood squirting from his mouth.

"No..." He whimpered.

_"Oh, yes... Nurgle's Rot, they call this. It has a different effect on each victim but the result is always the same... Death... Your soul will become a daemon of Nurgle..." _The voice said, laughing softly.

"No, I can't... I don't want... How did I even get it?" Crau asked.

_"Is that not obvious? It started from your old wound. Put two and two together, I know it's difficult for you loyalists but this is easy stuff, come on." _The voice responded.

"The sorcerer... When Ivan died... But that was twenty years ago!" Crau said, tears streaming down his face.

_"Yes, it was. The rot has remained dormant for all that time but when I arrived in this system... Well, the Rot was likely to remain dormant for another century or more with you, but I could not afford to wait that long, no. I... kick-started the process a little."_

"You monster..." Crau said, rolling onto his back and gasping as agony pulsated through him.

_"Astute observation. Now, of course, when you die, a little boil in Nurgle's garden will burst and from it, a daemon of Nurgle that is your soul will burst forth. After, of course, your agonizing death in oh... Ten minutes? It looks like ten minutes. There is, of course, one way to stave off the Rot, to survive..." _The voice murmured softly. Crau shut his eyes, breathing deeply and doing his best to ignore the pain.

"I will not give in... I will die loyal to the Emperor..." He moaned, pain coursing through him.

_"Oh, but I know you do not want to, Chapter Master... Merely... Put that armour on, it will keep you alive." _The voice said. Crau glanced at the terminator armour. _"Of course, if you are not utterly devoted to Chaos when you put that armour on it will kill you in a way far more painful than the Rot and either way your soul will be a daemonic servant of the Plaguefather... But it is your choice, Chapter Master."_

"No, I can't... I won't..." He muttered, his voice slurred and his vision blurring. He rolled onto his front and looked at the armour reluctantly.

_"You stay on that high horse as long as you like. I should warn you, the clock is ticking. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Ask yourself, dear Crau... Do you want to die yet?" _The voice said. Crau shut his eyes and took a deep breath, relaxing as he accepted the truth...

* * *

Orion looked at the door of the Reliquary and pressed the number pad next to it, entering in the passcode. It beeped and a red light flashed, indicating that the door was locked. He swore and knocked on the door. There was no answer.

"Crau? Crau, are you in there? Open this door." Orion demanded. Again, there was no response. He sighed and drew his bolt pistol, firing two shots into the number pad. The door beeped and slid open. "That's a pretty big design flaw, we need the techmarines on that..." Orion muttered, holstering his pistol reluctantly and entering. The room was dark but his gene-seed rendered that point moot. He looked around, concerned and his hand near his holster.

"Crau, brother? Where are you?" He called softly. Doubt ate away at his heart but he pushed it aside, scanning the room. He turned a corner by a large power sword encased in glass and saw on the floor numerous discarded pieces of armour... An entire suit of Power Armour, in fact. His fingers brushed the holster of his pistol and he found comfort in that, despite how eerily silent the room was. He looked around. There was nothing else around.

"By the Emperor, Crau, where the hell _are _you?" Orion muttered, putting his hand on the wall and looking around. He looked into the mirror on the wall and saw his face as well as a huge, looming shadow behind him. He whipped around and saw Crau standing before him, wearing the suit of terminator armour recovered from Ishyda IV. Orion's eyes widened and he backed away, unbuckling his holster slowly.

"Brother, hello. Would you kindly explain to me why you are wearing the armour of a heretic?" Orion asked. He narrowed his eyes and looked at Crau's face. "By the Emperor, you look terrible." Orion muttered, noticing how gaunt Crau's face was, how the metal plating had rusted and how his remaining organic eye bulged and was bloodshot and how his skin had a shiny green hue to it.

"That's precisely why I wear it, brother. I was dying. But now, I have been set free." Crau said, smiling sickeningly. His teeth had gone yellow.

"What do you mean?" Orion asked, backing away further. Crau raised his hands in the air.

"Free of lies. Of burdens, of duty. Now, I am my own man. I have seen the truth. This armour saved my life and in turn imparted great wisdom upon me." Crau explained. As Orion's suspicions were confirmed, a wave of sadness swept through him at the truth of what had transpired hit him, as he realized what he had to do. He drew his pistol and trained it directly at Crau's forehead.

"You're a heretic." Orion said sadly.

"Call it what you will. I am free, more free than I have ever been. Put that away, Orion. I don't want to hurt you." Crau said, stepping forward.

"Stay back!" Orion yelled, tears welling up in his eyes. "You bastard, you were... You were good, you were loyal! Now, a heretic! A slave to the Ruinous Powers! You disgust me, Crau!"

"Brother, please, allow me to-"

"Don't call me Brother, you bastard!" Orion said. Crau scowled.

"Fine, if that's how this is going to be, so be it." Crau said. He charged forward and Orion squeezed the trigger. But he was too late, the rounds bouncing off the hulking terminator armour and as Crau's hand shot forth, he scrambled backwards, but too slowly, the armoured fist closing around his throat and lifting him into the air like a father with a babe. Orion struggled for air, punching Crau's arm with his left hand and aiming his pistol at Crau's head with the other. Crau's other hand batted the gun aside, sending it flying.

"I did not want to kill you, Orion. You, Yariel, you two were my closest friends. I planned to merely escape quietly and leave it at that." Crau said. Orion coughed as the fingers tightened around his throat.

"Quietly... In... That?" He gasped, pointing generally at the enormous armour Crau wore. The response was a savage blow to the head that blurred his vision momentarily.

"But now, you leave me no choice. For the sake of our friendship, I will do this quickly..." Crau said. Orion struggled against him but it was futile and the fist clenched ever tighter around his throat. Agony shot up from his neck, a loud cracking filled the air and as he lost feeling of everything below his neck, his vision went dark.


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's Note: Hey, this is a re-upload with a rewritten epilogue. Sorry for any confusion caused.**

* * *

Yariel paced his chamber, doubt nagging at his mind. He knew there was sense to what Orion had told him, but... He didn't want to believe it. He couldn't believe it. Crau, corrupted? Yariel had known Crau, been his brother, for well over a century. Then, he thought back to Orion's final words to him. He scowled and turned to his armour on the wall. After looking at it, he made a decision. As he began to don his armour, he knew one thing. Whatever happened in the Reliquary, he would be prepared.

Once his armour was on, he retrieved his thunder hammer from its resting place by the door and exited the chamber. A serf looked fearfully at him, clad in his full suit of artificer armour.

"Captain, why are you prepared for battle?" The serf asked.

"Better to have my equipment and not need it than need it and not have it. Lock down the Monastery, nobody gets out until I say so. Rally everybody in this place, we could have a fight on our hands." Yariel commanded.

"M'lord, only the chapter master can make such commands." The serf explained.

"If Orion was right, then I am acting chapter master. If it turns out he's wrong, then feel free to disregard my orders but until then, prepare the place. Now rally everybody." Yariel said.

"Everybody?" The serf asked.

"Yes, everybody. Not just Astartes, all the serfs as well. I want marines at every entrance to the monastery and to the Reliquary. Get to it." Yariel said. The serf nodded and scurried off. Yariel hefted his hammer and strode off at a brisk pace.

* * *

Yariel looked at the inky darkness ahead of him. The door was open, the keypad to unlock it shot. That was not a good sign. He gritted his teeth and entered, his helmet and Occulobe adjusted to compensate for the near complete darkness. He turned a corner by a power sword encased in glass, a gift from the Salamanders. When he turned, his eyes widened. Crau was standing silently, face gaunt and hollow, the metal plating on the left side rusted. He wore the terminator armour of the Warsmith and around him were numerous discarded pieces of power armour. But before him, crumpled on the floor, was the still form of Orion.

"Crau... What have you done?" Yariel hissed, stepping forward.

"I... I killed Orion." Crau said, his voice flat and broken. "I didn't... Didn't want to, but... Lost all control... As if I was watching from above while my body acted on its own." He said. Yariel scowled.

"Your excuses mean nothing. He was right, you've been corrupted." Yariel said.

"Yes... This entire campaign, Yariel, there's been a voice in my ear, a sorcerer... And the Rot, Yariel, it was killing me. I... I had no choice." Crau said weakly.

"Save your excuses. You are too far gone for redemption or saving. There is only one course left for you. Orion came unprepared, unarmoured. I have not made the same mistake." Yariel said, stepping forward.

"No... You haven't. Please don't do this... Just... Let me disappear." Crau said. He seemed utterly defeated.

"You will disappear when there is nothing left of you to inhabit this galaxy, bastard." Yariel said. "Make your peace."

"If that is the case, then you leave me no choice." Crau said. Seemingly out of nowhere, Crau pulled a long, slim power sword and as Yariel ran forward, Crau readied the blade and began lumbering forth. Yariel roared in anger and leaped into the air, hammer raised overhead in both hands. Crau clumsily stepped aside and though he managed to avoid a direct hit, the hammer glanced off his right arm and the resulting deafening shockwave sent Crau reeling, staggering to the side even in his tactical dreadnought armour. Yariel was swift with his follow-up, striking Crau directly in the gut. Crau coughed blood as the armour cracked and he was sent crashing into the glass case containing the power sword. He and the blade hit the ground hard and as Yariel began walking towards him with purpose, Crau groaned and fumbled for the sword. When his hands closed around it, the blade lit up in flames and then, dark energies began swirling around Crau. His hand began smoking, as if the blade was trying to resist the corruption, but Crau did not seem to notice, rising to his feet and looking at Yariel with a look of renewed energy.

They charged each-other and exchanged blows, Yariel's thunder hammer striking out and causing numerous shockwaves as the flaming power sword seared the heraldry and decorations off of Yariel's armour. Crau beat Yariel's hammer aside with a savage strike and then thrust the sword at Yariel's chest before he could respond with a speed that did not seem possible in the enormous armour Crau wore. If not for Yariel's Iron Halo, the blade would likely have impaled him. However, at that precise moment, the forcefield activated, redirecting the blade to the side and causing Crau to stumble. Yariel seized the moment to retrieve his hammer and when he went to strike Crau again, his adversary was ready.

The two weapons connected in the space between Yariel and Crau and a blinding light filled Yariel's eyes, which were adjusted for darkness, dazzling him at the same time as the catastrophically loud explosion shattered his eardrums and sent him flying. He crashed into a wall and hit the ground hard, lying there dazed for several minutes as his vision cleared. His ears, however, were less quick to heal and they would not stop ringing. Even as his sight returned, his vision was still blurry but on the other side of the room, he could see Crau slowly rising to his feet. Against his better judgement, Yariel too rose and staggered about, barely able to remain on his feet. He cursed and looked around. In the middle of the room, he could see the shaft of his thunder hammer, the head shattered and in a thousand pieces next to the undamaged power sword, still glowing as the embers died down.

"Yeah... Salamanders... Make better..." He muttered as he staggered forward. He could barely see Crau, his vision was so blurred. Crau too was staggering about blindly and when Yariel reached the weapons, he fumbled for the sword and nearly fell over. Deciding he wouldn't be able to use it properly, he kicked the weapon across the floor and began approaching Crau. His vision was beginning to clear and the ringing in his ears was starting to die down, but it was slow work and by the looks of things, Crau was just about healed. This was confirmed when he began running at Yariel, his terminator armour making the run slow to start. Yariel braced himself, knowing he was too disoriented to evade. He desperately looked around to see what he could do and then noticed Crau's exposed face. He waited and as Crau crashed into him, his gauntleted fist shot out into Crau's nose. Crau swore and staggered backwards, blood spraying from his nose as what looked like tears streamed down his face and he groaned.

"What the fuck?" Crau groaned.

"That's... Why... You wear... A helmet." Yariel said, shaking his head. Now, his vision had completely cleared, though his ears were still ringing a bit. He was still a bit off-balance but he had no time to lose and ran at Crau again, punching upwards into Crau's jaw. Crau grunted as he staggered backwards. As Yariel moved in for a third punch, Crau's hands shot out and grabbed him by the gorget, lifting him up. Yariel responded by repeatedly slamming both of his fists into Crau's face, denting the plating and ripping apart skin and cracking bone. Blood streamed down Crau's face and he snarled before a fist smashed into his mouth. He gasped and dropped Yariel, staggering backwards and spitting a spray of blood and teeth. But then, once more dark energy began swirling around Crau and though his wounds did not just heal, the smaller ones began closing up and the blood flow ceased. Yariel cursed and as Crau rushed forward, he punched Yariel in the face. Fortunately, Yariel wore a helmet, but the blow still dazed him and gave Crau time to lift him up, one hand on his gorget and another on the lower portion of his breastplate. Crau spat blood onto Yariel and then ran at a case containing a pair of short swords. He smashed Yariel through that case, then through a statue of the first chapter master, Maximillian, then through a row of antique bolters gifted to the chapter by the Salamanders. The chaplains and techmarines would no doubt be heartbroken by the loss of these relics but Yariel did not care as he was smashed savagely into a wall, his backpack cracking and the air being forced from his lungs. In addition, jolts of electricity sparked from the broken backpack and though it had not stopped powering his suit, it was now a major hazard and he needed to get rid of it as soon as possible. As Crau let him go, he landed on his rear end on the floor and received a brutal kick to the chest that dented his chest Aquilla. Crau snarled at him and turned, stalking off to grab one of the swords he had knocked free. Yariel looked around in a daze, unsure of what he would do. Then, he saw that Crau had unwittingly taken him to where he had kicked the power sword which burned.

As Crau returned with a sword in hand, he towered over Yariel and prepared to strike. But as the blade began to swing in a downward arc, Yariel's fingers closed around the power sword. As it was cloaked in an aura of flame, he swung it desperately to try and block the blow that would end his life, shutting his eyes. He heard Crau screaming as the blade met a slight resistance before passing through something. A clanging indicated something metal had hit the ground and Yariel opened his eyes to see that Crau was staggering backwards, screaming in pain as smoke curled up from the ragged, cauterized stump of his right elbow. His left hand clutched the wound and Yariel looked to see that half of Crau's arm lay next to him, smoke rising from where the cut had been made. Crau sank to his knees as Yariel rose to his feet, slowly regaining his energy. As sparks shot from his backpack and several spots along his armour, he stalked forward menacingly, gripping the power sword in both hands and raising it above his head.

"Yariel... Please..." Crau whimpered, tears streaking through his bloody and mangled face.

"No. Shut up, Crau. I am finished with you." Yariel said as he prepared to strike.

_"Oh... But I am not." _A voice hissed in his ear as he began to strike. He halted the blow and frowned, looking around. Suddenly, as if an immense force had just hit him in the chest, Yariel was flung back into the wall, hitting the ground again as a shadowy form materialized next to Crau. Soon, the shadows took form and a Chaos Sorcerer stood before him, his warp-twisted and bald head grinning at him with pointed teeth and white eyes.

"Now you just had to mutilate a perfectly good servant." The sorcerer said, glancing at Crau. "Oh well, he was pretty useless anyway, I was likely to make modifications in the first place. As Yariel tried to rise, his armour locked up. The sorcerer touched Crau's shoulder and shadows began swirling around them. "Goodbye, Captain." The sorcerer said. As he spoke, his backpack overloaded and an enormous electric shock ripped through his body. Everything went dark.

* * *

**Epilogue**

Yariel groaned as his eyes slowly opened. His vision was blurred but as he opened his eyes, white light flooded in. He blinked rapidly and slowly rose to his feet. He looked around and found he was in a medbay. The doors slid open and in walked Apothecary Radri.

"Good to see you're awake, Yariel. How do you feel?" Radri asked. Yariel hesitated.

"Not great. How long have I been out?" Yariel asked.

"Two days. The electric shock overloaded your central nervous system and damn near killed you. It fried your sus-an membrane, too. It may never function properly again, so I'd advise you take a great deal more care in future battles, since if you go down, well... You stay down." Radri explained. Yariel sighed.

"Perfect. Is there any chance it'll recover?" Yariel asked. Radri shrugged.

"Who knows? I'd say it's unlikely, but it isn't impossible. It's hard to say for sure, since nobody knows just how the gene-seed implants function." He said.

"That's wonderful... Has anything happened while I was out of it?" Yariel said. Radri hesitated, then nodded.

"A little. Recovery efforts across the system were made, so we have the bodies of every space marine killed in the conflict, their armour is being repaired and their progenoids all extracted." Radri said.

"How many did it all come to?" Yariel asked.

"Close to three hundred dead." Came the reply. Yariel sighed. Those losses would take a long time to recover from, especially since in many places the population they recruited from had been decimated.

"Alright. Is there anything else?" Yariel said.

"Yes." Radri said, hesitating once more. "You see, while you were unconscious... An Ultramarines strike cruiser arrived in orbit. They demanded we surrender all the relics that the Adeptus Mechanicus gifted to the chapter following the fighting on Isphyda IV. Said that since most of them were Ultramarine relics from the Horus Heresy, they were not the property of the Mechanicus or us." He explained. Yariel's eyes widened.

"No... But they haven't belonged to the Ultramarines in ten thousand years! And some of them were from the Iron Hands!" Yariel said.

"That's what Captain Helios told them. Nonetheless, they were quite adamant about it, until Helios pointed out that we had the numbers to simply blow them out of orbit." He said. Yariel's eyes widened in horror.

"He threatened conflict with the _Ultramarines_?" Yariel gasped.

"And why not? We sent a distress call at the start of all this and they only arrived to reap the benefits of our sacrifices. I only wish I had been there myself to tell that Sicarius what I thought of him." Radri told him, striding across the room folding his arms behind his back.

"This won't be the last we hear from them, you know that." He said, walking over to Radri.

"Of course not, but I trust you to handle them appropriately, Chapter Master." Radri replied.

"Chapter Master?" He asked, frowning.

"Indeed. Crau is no longer in charge. He killed Orion, tried to kill you and fled with a Chaos Sorcerer, remember? The security footage doesn't lie. Since you were Captain of the First Company, you are now Chapter Master." Radri responded. "Of course, we have yet to hold any formal ceremony, but that was scheduled for after the funeral, assuming you awoke in time. Which you have."

"Funeral?" He inquired.

"For Orion. He was one of the oldest in the chapter, you do remember. Nearly everybody in the chapter younger than a century was trained by him. In fact, the funeral should be beginning within the hour." Radri said. "I'm going to head there now, if you'll accompany me."

"Of... Of course." Yariel said. The two strode from the room and down the corridors of the Fortress Monastery.

* * *

After being clad in ceremonial artificer armour in the armoury, Yariel was led by Radri outside the Fortress Monastery across the sweeping plains around it. Eventually, they reached a large, marble monolith constructed atop a hill. Around it, the entire chapter stood silently, clad in full power armour as the Master of Sanctity, Noal, read off the scripture, giving the last rites to the body that lay before them all. Yariel approached and gave Orion one long look. He looked almost... Peaceful, dressed in a black robe, his eyes shut, his hair neat, arms folded over his chest and his skin pale. If one did not know the truth, they might think him asleep, if not for the dark marks on his neck where it had been crushed. Next to him, a deep hole had been dug in the ground and Yariel noticed that there were hundreds of markings on the ground, with one such marking next to the hole that Orion would be lowered into. Likely, these marked future spots where the rest of the dead would be buried. A large mount of dirt lay next to Orion.

"And now, his soul is with the Emperor, protected from Daemons and Heretics... To be with the greatest among mankind, that is his eternal reward. We will never see his like again. Your service is over, now. May you rest for eternity, Brother Orion." Noal finished, lowering the scriptures and nodding.

"May you rest for eternity." The entire chapter echoed, a dull, low, monotonous chant. With that, two Astartes moved forward and gently picked up Orion, lowering him into the hole. Once that had been done, a pair of chapter serfs with shovels approached and began shoveling the dirt back into the hole. Yariel watched silently, looking down at Orion as heaps of dirt were piled onto him. Eventually, Yariel could not see the body anymore and once the hole was filled, he looked up.

"Goodbye." He whispered, shutting his eyes. After a minute of silence, he opened them again and saw Noal approaching him.

"Chapter Master." Noal said. Yariel looked around and saw that the entire chapter was on their knees. "It is time to formally accept your position. Do you know the words?"

"No." Yariel said. Noal removed a piece of scripture that had been attached to one of his pauldrons and handed it to Yariel.

"Not to worry, just read off that." He instructed. Yariel nodded and did as instructed.

"Brothers, all things must come to an end. Now, the reign of our last Chapter Master has ended and a new man must take his place at the head of our great chapter. I, Yariel Anties, vow to lead you in the times ahead. Through hardship, strife, blood and steel, I will lead you." He recited.

"And we shall follow!" Noal yelled.

"AND WE SHALL FOLLOW!" The chapter roared.

"While I command, no dishonour will be brought upon you! No shame shall be borne by you, my brothers, only glory and bloodshed in the name of the Emperor! We are the Emperor's Finest, his Space Marines! And They Shall Know No Fear!" Yariel yelled.

"AND THEY SHALL KNOW NO FEAR!" The chapter roared as loudly as possible. Yariel could not help but smile behind his helm as he handed the scripture back to Noal. Wherever Orion was now, Yariel hoped he could hear. Those words would mark the beginning of the end for Crau's life, Yariel vowed. He would avenge Orion.

**~End**


End file.
